


Jack and The Beanstalk

by Ice_Elf



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Elf/pseuds/Ice_Elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Harkness was used to having nothing. That was until he met a strange man by the side of the road: a strange man who took a cow in exchange for five magic beans and a promise of riches, adventure and love. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to thank black_crystal_dragon for all her support while writing this. She has cheered me on, given me advice, allowed me to bounce ideas off her and most importantly beta’d this monstrosity in a very short space of time. She is a fantastic beta and I wouldn’t have done it without her.

Jack Harkness swung the last sack of grain from off his back and placed it with the others in the far corner of Bilis Manger’s barn. He straightened up and rolled his shoulders to ease his stiff muscles while taking a moment to survey his work. Moving the fifty sacks had taken the best part of a day and it had been the sort of hard, strenuous work he was familiar with. No matter how often he asked for work, people would only give him the menial tasks they wished to avoid themselves.

“I’d give anything for a bit more adventure,” he sighed, leaning against one of the wooden supports and closing his eyes for a second or two. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in the hay and sleep for a couple of hours but he knew that he couldn’t. He had a long walk home and his mother would worry if he didn’t return by nightfall. Sighing, he straightened up and went in search of Bilis.

It didn’t take him long to find the farmer. Bilis was in the stables feeding his large carthorse. Abaddon lifted his head as Jack approached and snorted loudly, drawing his master’s attention to their visitor.

“Ah, Jack,” Bilis said as he turned away from the horse. “Finished already?”

Digging a hand in his pocket, the farmer produced a small cloth bag which he threw to Jack. The bag was lighter than expected, and Jack had to hide his disappointment quickly. He knew he couldn’t complain. Bilis had a wife and four children to feed as well as a farm to run. Jack knew he was lucky to get any payment at all. Still, he had hoped for more.

“Thank you, Sir,” he said as he pocketed the bag. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not today,” Bilis said, heading towards him. The farmer placed a hand between his shoulder blades and began to steer him out of the stables. “Try coming back next week. I might have something for you then.”

The hand was firm on his back. Jack took the hint, increasing his pace. It was always the same. The farmers would offer him simple, manual labour only to rush him off their land as soon as he was done. None of them ever wanted him around for very long.

As they crossed the farmyard a pretty, dark haired girl ran up to join them. “Hello Jack,” she greeted him, jogging to keep up with Jack’s strides. “I’m glad to see you again.”

Jack returned her smile. “Not as glad as I am to see you, Estelle, you look as lovely as ever.”

He was about to continue when he saw the expression on Bilis’ face and the hand at his back became more forceful.

“The chickens need feeding, Estelle,” the farmer said. “Master Harkness is just leaving.”

He stepped away from Jack, towards his daughter. It was as clear a dismissal as Jack had ever heard. He sighed, said a brief goodbye to the Mangers and strode away in the direction of the gate. He glanced back once to see father and daughter arguing in hushed tones. There was no question about the cause.

Jack knew that his good looks and charm had won the hearts of many of the village girls. They liked his firm, tanned body, his blue eyes and his roguish smile, and they swooned when he flirted, paying them compliments that came naturally to his lips. Jack liked the attention, and there were a few girls – and a number of their brothers, too – willing to disobey their fathers for the chance of a roll in the hay. But the few dalliances he had were brief and impersonal. He didn’t want to get too close and risk falling in love. Nothing would ever come of it. The boys wanted nothing more than a quick shag, and the local men would never allow their daughters to marry a man who couldn’t provide for them. However. even if Jack were a rich man they would not agree to a match. There wasn’t a person in the region who hadn’t heard the rumours that had surrounded him for the past eight years, ever since he had moved to Cardiff. No father would allow their daughter to marry someone like him.

 

The cottage where Jack lived with his mother was over an hour’s walk from the farms surrounding Cardiff. It stood beside a road, amidst scrubland: a squat, dilapidated building that looked as though it would blow over in a storm. Jack knew that he would have to put some money aside to spend on thatch and wood before winter arrived. He sighed; he didn’t know how they were going to survive. There was barely enough money for food, let alone fuel and materials for the cottage’s upkeep.

An underfed cow tethered to the fence mooed as Jack approached. He paused to give her a quick scratch behind the ear. “Sorry, Janet,” he murmured, grimacing when she butted his shoulder. He gave her another pat. “I’ve nothing for you today.”

The cottage door swung open as he approached, his mother stepping out to greet him. The bag of coins in his pocket felt lighter than ever as she drew him inside and to the table. He pulled it out, dropping it onto the surface.

“That’s the last of the bread and cheese,” his mother said as she placed a plate before him. Jack smiled, suspecting that she had been looking out for his return, and began to eat. “You’ll have to go to market tomorrow,” she took the seat opposite him and emptied the bag on the table. Her lips drew into a thin line as she took in the few silver coins that were scattered across the wood. “Is this it?”

Jack swallowed his mouthful. “Mother, Bilis Manger isn’t rich. He couldn’t afford to give me much...”

He trailed off as his mother’s face darkened.

“Not rich!” she snapped, snatching up the coins and dropping them back into the bag. “You know as well as I that Bilis Manger is a skinflint. He could certainly pay you more than this paltry sum. This is not enough for a good day’s work and you should have told him that!”

Jack ran a hand through his hair. “And have them whisper that I’m ungrateful as well as everything else? It’s a wonder that anyone will employ me at all.”

His mother sighed, resting her head in her hands. “Jack, they treat you like slave labour. You’ll do whatever they ask of you and never complain when they don’t pay you nearly enough. Last week you repaired the Williams’ roof for absolutely nothing!”

“Rhys couldn’t afford to pay anyone with his wife and new baby to feed,” Jack protested. “And it isn’t like he can do it himself with his bad back.”

They had been over this many times and Jack had to admit his mother was right: their neighbours did take him for granted. He had believed that being charitable would bring him acceptance but instead he found himself unable to deny their requests, and unable to protest when they could not pay him more than a few pennies.

“Oh, Jack,” his mother murmured. The anger had gone from her voice; she just sounded weary now. “You’ve a good, kind heart and I wish people could see that but this –” she gestured to the coins on the table, “But this won’t feed us for long.” She met his gaze, and Jack’s stomach churned as he saw her expression. “I’m afraid we’ll have to sell Janet.”

Jack’s stool clattered to the floor as he rose to his feet. “What?” He shook his head. “Mother, no – please! She’s part of the family.” He rounded the table, dropping to his knees beside his mother and taking hold of her hand. “We’ll be alright. I can go out tomorrow and see what work I can find. I’ll insist on being paid this time.”

His mother met Jack’s gaze, turning her hand to give his a squeeze. “I know you will, Jack, but we can’t be sure that they’ll give you work and the money we have here won’t buy enough food to last the week. Janet will have to go.”

Jack’s heart sank. He searched for words to argue but he knew his mother was right. There was no certainty of more money and they owned nothing else of any value. He glanced out of the window to where Janet stood, head bowed to the thin covering of grass. He sighed. “I’ll take her to market tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be happier elsewhere, with someone who can feed her properly.”

It hurt to think of parting with Janet. She had been a weak and sickly calf, and Jack had hand reared her after Rhys Williams had rated her chances of survival as near impossible. She had defied all expectation but Jack knew that it would be better all round if they did sell her.

“I am sorry, Jack,” his mother said. She released his hand and rose to her feet. “If there was anything else we could sell...”

She trailed off, her eyes landing on the old battered sword that hung on the back door.

Jack shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “We aren’t selling Father’s sword.”

The sword had been Franklin Harkness’ most prized possession and, despite their poverty, it was the one thing that neither Jack nor his mother were willing to sell. His mother had never been the same since her husband’s death and losing the last physical reminder of him would surely send her spiralling over the edge that she had been teetering on ever since.

Jack dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to quash the guilt that rose up at the reminder of his father’s death. There really was no choice in the matter: he would have to sell Janet.

“I’ll take Janet to market tomorrow,” he looked up, meeting his mother’s gaze once more “I’ll get a good price for her, I promise.”

 

The sun was just rising as Jack set off towards the market with Janet. The cow ambled along beside him, pausing every few moments to snatch a mouthful of grass and meadow flowers. Jack was loath to hurry her along and deny her this treat. He had no idea how she would be treated by her new owner, but he doubted she would enjoy the life she was used to. His lips drew into a thin line as he imagined the offers he would receive for her. No matter what the price, he vowed silently, he wouldn’t sell Janet to a butcher.

The market was already crowded by the time Jack arrived. People bustled around Cardiff’s main square, struggling to carry purchases and fighting for room at the stalls. Traders clamoured for attention above the general hubbub of human and animal voices. Jack’s apologies went unheard as he shoved his way towards the livestock quarter. The crowds grew as he approached, and the only space to be found was a cramped corner between a pen of sheep and one of plump, healthy cattle.

“Cow for sale!” he called, hitching Janet to a post and turning his attention to the crowds. He glanced around, hoping to catch the eye of one of the market-goers, but they spared him no more than the briefest glance. The only gazes that lingered were those of the girls, and their only interest was Jack. They would linger near his stall, shooting him coy smiles in the hope he would speak to them, before slinking away when he only ignored them. It wasn’t as if they would be allowed to marry him, and even if they were, even if Jack could support a wife and children, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Jack dreamed of adventure – and of someone to share it with him. He had yet to meet that person, and he doubted that anyone in Cardiff would make him happy.

Jack didn’t think he was hard to please; he had known for a long time that he found men just as attractive as women – and men were much more willing to have sex outside of wedlock. There were no complications when it came to men: they didn’t expect anything, and they didn’t want anything more than hard, fast sex wherever they could get it. It had taken Jack some time to realise that, and he had suffered many heartbreaks in his younger years. Men telling him he meant nothing to them, fathers telling him to stay away from their daughters... It was enough to make him swear off love forever – or, at least, until he met the right person.

The hours passed without a single spark of interest and, as the crowds thinned and the other vendors began to pack up, Jack realised he would have to return home and hope for better luck tomorrow.

 

He trudged back home, dragging his feet and trying not to imagine his mother’s disappointment. They would have very little to eat tonight and nothing at all tomorrow unless he managed to sell the cow.

Jack sighed when the rope grew taut and stopped to let Janet eat some of the grass at the side of the road. “What we need is some kind of miracle,” he said, lying back in the grass and gazing up at the clouds. “But they don’t just fall from the sky.”

“Now, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” a man’s voice said, and Jack sat bolt upright, twisting around to see who had spoken. For one wild moment Jack thought it might have been Janet, but then he spotted a man stood at the side of the road leaning against a large blue box which he was certain hadn’t been there before. The man was dressed very strangely and Jack’s first thought was that he was an eccentric foreigner. He wore a suit with a long brown coat and bright red canvas shoes. He smiled at Jack and meandered over, reaching out to pat Janet on the head.

“What a lovely cow, does she have a name?”

Jack stared blankly at the newcomer for a moment before finding his tongue, stammering out, “Janet.” Then scrambling to his feet he approached the man. “Would you be interested in buying her, Sir?”

“Sir?” the man frowned. “Oh yes, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m the Doctor.” He didn’t ask for Jack’s name, or leave time for him to give it, continuing to fuss over Janet as he spoke. “As a matter of fact, Donna sent me out to buy some milk. I think a cow is infinitely better – don’t you?”

“Uh... yes,” Jack replied as the Doctor fixed him with an appraising look. He had an uncomfortable feeling that more than his outward appearance was being assessed. Forcing a large grin, he tried to act as if he didn’t find this encounter at all unusual.

“The question is,” the Doctor said, “Why do you want to sell her? She’s a wonderful animal.”

Jack glanced at Janet before returning to meet the Doctor’s gaze. “I don’t want to sell her but – my mother and I have no money left and Janet is the only thing we have to sell. I don’t have a choice.” Jack hesitated, but as strange as the Doctor was Jack was certain that he was a good man. There was something inherently trustworthy about him, and Jack knew that he might not get a better chance than this. “I’d like her to go to someone who can take care of her, and you look as if you could.”

“Well, I’ll certainly take care of her,” the Doctor said, looking entirely serious. “I promise she’ll have all the grass she can eat. Now about payment.” He began to rummage in his pockets, pulling out handfuls of strange objects – some of which appeared to be foreign coins – all the while mumbling under his breath, “Klaxiocan Harpens, Filian Jalosa, Griglios crystals – aha! Oh, sorry, they’re Naimaton Golds. They do look an awful lot like your currency though.”

Jack stared in surprise, feeling certain that this man was insane, but for some reason he found himself believing that he really would take care of Janet.

Finally, the Doctor stopped rummaging in his pockets, and straightened up clutching something in his hand. “Now, here’s something,” he said, opening his hand to reveal five ordinary-looking green beans.

Jack frowned, glancing from the beans back to the Doctor. He shook his head, fighting down a wave of disappointment. “I’m sorry – I can’t accept anything other than money.”

He turned away and began to lead Janet down the road.

“But these aren’t ordinary beans!” the Doctor called after him. “They’re Miracle beans from Tarvia.”

Something in his voice made Jack pause. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Miracle beans?” he repeated. “What are they?”

“Oh, marvellous little things,” the Doctor replied, tossing the beans in the air and catching them again. “They can make the most wonderful things happen to those who deserve them. They can give you riches, love, adventure beyond your wildest dreams.” He smiled. “But of course, you aren’t interested in all of that.”

He shoved the beans back into his pocket and turned towards the blue box. Jack swallowed. The Doctor was offering him the three things he wanted more than anything and he could have them... if only the beans worked. Rationally, he knew that they wouldn’t – that they couldn’t possibly – but the Doctor certainly believed they would and, despite the fact he was clearly insane, Jack felt that he could trust him. There was something in his eyes, something ancient and powerful, something that had seen things that Jack could never imagine, something that had seen places where Miracle beans could and did exist...

“Wait!” he called out, taking a hurried step towards the blue box. The Doctor stopped, turning to him expectantly. “I’ve changed my mind,” Jack continued, “I’ll trade Janet for... for the beans.”

The Doctor smiled, and came to meet Jack, “I thought you might.”

He retrieved the beans from his pocket, dropping them into Jack’s outstretched hand. Jack peered at them closely, half expecting to see something magical – but they were just ordinary beans.

“Plant them in your garden,” the Doctor explained, reaching out to close Jack’s hand around the beans, “And in the morning your miracle will have occurred.”

Jack nodded, carefully dropping the beans into his pocket. He turned to Janet and gave her one last pet. “See you, girl,” he murmured as he passed his end of the lead to the Doctor. “Take care of her, won’t you?”

“I will,” the Doctor promised, scratching Janet behind one ear. “Come on girl, let’s introduce you to Donna.”

Jack turned away as the Doctor led Janet towards the small blue box. He shook his head; the man was mad. The box would barely be roomy enough for a grown man – even one as skinny as the Doctor – so there was no possibility of Janet fitting too. He turned away, blinking away the mist in his eyes and began to walk back down the road. He had barely taken five steps when a strange, grinding noise filled the air. He twisted around but there was nothing to be seen. The strange blue box and its inhabitants were gone.

Jack swallowed and glanced around. If it wasn’t for the absence of Janet and the beans in his pocket, he would have been certain that he had dreamed the past few minutes. The only other explanation was powerful sorcery, and while Jack accepted that the strange occurrences around Cardiff were the result of magic he wasn’t sure he wanted to mess with such forces himself. He pulled the beans from his pocket, tempted to throw them away. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind anymore that they would work... but messing with forces you didn’t understand could only ever bring trouble.

It would be worth it though, Jack decided. If he could get everything he wanted, dabbling with magic would be a small price to pay. He slid the beans back into his pocket and hurried for home, looking forward to showing his mother the solution to all their problems.

 

“Mother, I’m home!” Jack called out as he hurried into the cottage, the magic beans clutched in his hand. He strode over to the table where his mother was slicing the bread he had bought the previous day and dropped the beans on the table before her. His mother glanced at the beans, then up at Jack, confusion written across her face.

“What’s this, Jack?” she asked. “Did you sell Janet? What did you get for her?”

She rose to her feet, running her gaze up and down his body as she sought out any sign of a money bag that was not there.

Jack could pinpoint the exact moment his mother realised what he had done. Her shoulders stiffened and she looked up to meet his eyes. For a woman who was several inches shorter than he, she certainly managed to look formidable when she wanted to. Jack couldn’t hold her gaze for long, dropping it to the floor as he grasped the severity of what he had done. He had put his trust in a man whose sanity he had doubted and it had done nothing except create a situation worse than before – one that he was entirely responsible for.

“Please, Jack,” his mother said tightly, “Please tell me that you didn’t exchange Janet for those beans.”

Jack couldn’t find the words to tell her the truth. It would only make her angrier to learn that he had believed the beans were magical and that they would bring him everything he desired. He didn’t need to speak; his silence told his mother all she needed to know.

“You did, didn’t you?” she said, shaking her head as she grasped the edge of the table, unable to even look at Jack.

He took a step forward, reaching out for her, “Mother, I’m sorry. I was stupid...”

“Stupid?” his mother snapped, “That’s not strong enough a word! What did you think I could do with five beans? Did you think we could eat them? I asked you to get a good price for Janet – and what do you give me? Nothing! Honestly, Jack, what possessed you?”

She fell silent, sucking in deep breaths. Jack regarded her for a moment, wondering whether he could risk approaching her to offer apologies again. He decided against it; the rage was still in her eyes and there was nothing he could possibly offer to diminish it.

He looked down at his feet, biting his lip as he contemplated what to tell her. Somehow he doubted that anything but the truth would work. He would have to deal with the repercussions later. He swallowed. “He told me they were magical,” he explained. “He said that they would bring me love, adventure and riches. And I know it sounds stupid but I believed him.”

“What?” his mother hissed. “You sold our cow for beans because you thought they were magical!” She snatched up the beans and held them out to Jack. “Tell me, Jack! How could you possibly think that these could bring you anything?”

She turned and stalked over to the window, pulling it open and hurling the beans out into the garden. “You stupid boy,” she snapped. “How could you do this to us? Now we have nothing...”

She broke off, her eyes lingering on his father’s sword hanging on the door. The anger went out of her and she sagged, leaning heavily on the windowsill.

“Just get out of my sight,” she said, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Jack stepped forward. “Mother, I really am sorry...”

She held up a hand, stilling his apology. She looked round wearily. “Just go to bed, Jack. Just go.”

Jack sighed, knowing that he had to let his mother calm down. He headed to his room and closed the door behind him, dropping down on the bed and running a hand over his face. Sleep didn’t come easily. Hunger gnawed at Jack’s stomach but that didn’t trouble him half as much as the sound of his mother’s muffled sobs. It was hours before they stopped, and longer still until Jack found himself able to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack woke at dawn, with the sun rising high on the horizon and the birds singing merrily in the trees. Their song grated on Jack’s nerves; he couldn’t find anything to smile about. Things had been difficult ever since his father’s death, but they had always managed to get by somehow. This time, Jack didn’t see a way out and he knew it was his fault.

Judging from the silence that cloaked the rest of the house, his mother was still asleep. Jack climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. There had to be some work, somewhere, for him. One kind person who would pay him to do something for them, giving him a few more days where he didn’t have to worry about food, or how they were going to keep a roof over their heads.

He stepped out into the kitchen and stopped dead. The room was still shrouded in darkness, the sun only managing to creep through the window at its very edge, sending bright rays cutting through the gloom to land upon the table. Jack took a few more steps into the room, closer to the window, and peered outside. His eyes widened and he grabbed the edge of the windowsill to steady himself. In the front garden, where yesterday there had been nothing but patchy grass, was a tall, leafy beanstalk.

Mesmerised, Jack stumbled towards the doorway, yanked it open and stepped outside. Blinking and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, he looked up. The beanstalk was enormous, too wide for him to encircle with his arms and taller than anything Jack had ever seen before. It stretched high into the sky, disappearing into the clouds.

“They were magic beans,” Jack murmured, reaching out to run his fingers along one oversized leaf. The Doctor’s words were running through his mind once again: a promise of adventure and riches and, most importantly, of love. If the Doctor had spoken the truth then everything Jack had ever desired lay at the top of this beanstalk. He let the leaf slide from his fingers as he stepped back to gaze up at the clouds, wondering what lay beyond them.

There was only one way to find out and that was to climb the beanstalk. It would be dangerous, he knew; all adventures were – and what would be the point of acquiring riches and love if he didn’t have to face a little danger to get them?

He shot a glance back at the cottage, wondering what his mother would think when she awoke to find him gone. She wouldn’t worry until later – but if he never returned then what would become of her? She would never know what had happened to him, and Jack didn’t want to leave her alone and force her to fend for herself. His mother was old, and while formidable, she wasn’t as strong as she had once been. Jack knew that he should leave the beanstalk and search for honest work as he had initially intended, but the beanstalk called to him, beckoning him closer and higher.

He stood for a moment, contemplating his options as he gazed towards the clouds. Really, there was no decision to make. He had known from the very moment he saw the beanstalk that he would have to climb it. There was something in the pit of his stomach, a desire for answers that would linger until he had climbed the beanstalk and discovered its mysteries.

Sparing one last glance at the cottage, Jack stepped towards the beanstalk. Lodging one foot into the joint between stalk and leaf, he pulled himself upwards and began to climb.

 

It was mid morning by the time Jack reached the top of the beanstalk. He had climbed steadily, pausing once or twice to glance at the ground, marvelling at how tiny his cottage seemed from a height. Half way up, he had despaired, believing he would never reach the top, wondering if perhaps there wasn’t one and everything had been an elaborate trick.

Eventually the stalk had begun to thin, and Jack had found himself passing through a thick layer of cloud. The air cooled rapidly, moisture clinging to his thin shirt and trousers. Although unable to see more than a few inches before his face Jack continued upwards, letting his hands guide him.

It came as a shock when the clouds disappeared. Jack emerged through a hole onto a strange world above the clouds. His eyes widened as he looked around, then he carefully lowered himself to the ground. Taking two steps forward, Jack reached out to touch a rose bush and tugged a petal from one of the flowers. It lay in the palm of his hand, abnormally large and fragile. It was, Jack, guessed, at least five times the normal size.

He lifted his gaze to study his surroundings once again. Everything, it seemed, was that same, strange proportion: the trees, the flowers, even... Jack followed the trail of a large bumble bee as it buzzed through the plants and swallowed as visions of giant wolves and bears flooded his mind.

The rose bush blocked much of his view, so Jack began to circle it, wading through grass that came up to his waist. He tried to memorise his surroundings, for he would need to find the beanstalk again if he were to return home, but all thoughts of home were driven from his mind as he rounded the rose bush.

Jack blinked, staggering slightly as he gazed along the paved road he had found himself beside. Ahead stood the largest building he had ever seen. It dwarfed his cottage and all of the buildings in Cardiff. The castle rose above high walls, its towers climbing towards the sky. Gargoyles dotted the walls, gazing down at Jack with unconcealed malevolence and the ivy growing on the walls had choked many of the windows. Jack grinned, no longer fighting his desire for adventure, and started through the grass.

It took him little over ten minutes to reach the high walls that surrounded the castle. Its size had made it seem closer than it actually was and now he stood beneath the walls they seemed even more immense. Jack decided there and then that he didn’t want to meet the man capable of building to such a height. He stepped up to the gate, peering through the iron bars at the overgrown garden and the large wooden doors.

Despite his better judgement, Jack wanted to enter the castle. He was certain that if he was going to find adventure it would be inside. Perhaps there would also be a captive royal for him to rescue who would provide him the riches and love the Doctor had promised.

One thing was certain; there was no way he would be able to reach the door handle and enter that way. He would have to find another route. He slipped between the bars in the gate and stepped into the garden.

He brushed through the grass, searching for an alternate entrance. The grass was taller here and choked with weeds, making movement difficult, but it didn’t take Jack long to find the opening he was looking for. An old gnarled tree stood near the walls, its knots making perfect footholds and its branches bending towards a windowsill set high in the wall. Jack grinned in triumph when he saw that the window was open.

Jack hurried to the tree and scrambled up the trunk. In his youth he had been known for his ability to climb any tree he saw and many a time had been called upon to rescue a ball or a kite, and once even a vicious cat that had rewarded him with several deep gouges in his arms. Climbing this tree caused him no problems, although it was dissimilar to any that he had climbed before. The knots and grooves that riddled the trunk made the climb reminiscent of the rocky foothills that were scattered throughout his childhood home,

Jack quashed the memories before the peaceful days of his childhood could darken. Instead he focussed on climbing the tree, sliding along the branch that hung over the windowsill, lowering himself down and dropping the last few inches. He landed in a crouch and quickly glanced up, letting out a breath when he realised that he hadn’t been seen. Quickly, Jack rose to his feet and scrambled to the window, ducking through it before he could have second thoughts.

He stopped dead, frozen in the window frame. He wasn’t alone.

A young man knelt on the kitchen counter scrubbing at a large stain. Despite the giant proportion of his surroundings he looked to be of normal size. Jack tilted his head to one side, studying the man, and judged that he had to be about his height – maybe a little taller. He was a little too skinny, as if he hadn’t eaten well in a while, but Jack suspected that there was a pleasant body beneath his form fitting black trousers and red shirt. Jack grinned, there certainly was if his ass was anything to judge by.

The man’s attention was firmly on the large stain, so Jack slid from the window sill and took a few steps towards him. He stopped some feet away, leaning against a pepper pot and watching, wondering who the man was – for he certainly couldn’t be the castle’s master. A grin grew on Jack’s face as he wondered if his thoughts of captured royalty were about to be proven correct. He folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat.

The man stiffened, then slowly rose to his feet and turned around. His surprise at seeing Jack showed on his face for only a moment before he covered it with an impenetrable mask. He didn’t relax his posture, and his eyes darted quickly around the room before returning to Jack.

“Alright,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Jack grinned, taking few steps forward and sweeping into a low bow. “Jack Harkness, at your service. And who are you?”

He rose, and swept his gaze up and down the man. He really was very good looking, with short dark hair, blue eyes and lips that were just begging to be kissed.

“Jones – Ianto Jones, and you’ve still not explained how you got in here.” Ianto folded his arms across his chest, raising one eyebrow and looking distinctly unimpressed. Jack blinked, people usually fell for his charms – but Ianto didn’t look even remotely affected. He found himself floundering for an answer, unsure of what to say or how to explain himself without sounding completely crazy.

“I don’t suppose it matters how you got here, really,” Ianto said suddenly, “But you really need to leave – you’re in so much danger by just being here.” He paused, and turned away, his face clouding over momentarily. “Besides, there aren’t any beautiful princesses here – just a tailor’s son without a penny to his name.”

Jack frowned, feeling a wave of guilt for hoping Ianto was a captive Prince. He wondered how many people had found the world in the clouds before, and how they had treated Ianto. Not well, Jack suspected, as he watched the man struggle to hide his distress.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not interested in beautiful princesses,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “They’re far too demanding – handsome tailor’s sons are much more to my liking.”

Ianto glanced up at him, surprise written across his face, and for a moment Jack was sure he saw a quiver of a smile on his face. As their eyes met, Jack realised that he hadn’t lied – no Princess could ever capture his interest as quickly as Ianto had done. Before he could say anything more, Ianto’s mask had slammed into place once again.

“That’s really beside the point,” he said. “You have to leave now. If my Master caught you here he would kill you.”

“Your master?” Jack asked, not at all surprised by the news. The more he learnt about Ianto the more he wanted to know, and the young man’s reluctance to display emotion only made him more intriguing. “You’re a servant here?”

Ianto’s lips twisted into a grimace. “Servants get paid.”

His eyes darted up and met Jack’s before sliding to the side, a faint red blush appearing on his cheeks. Jack frowned, wanting to offer Ianto some sympathy but not knowing what he could possibly say. He had often felt he was treated like slave labour but his situation had never been as bad as Ianto’s. He had never lacked freedom – and he would rather have that than all the riches in the world.

He closed the gap between them, placing a hand on Ianto’s arm. Ianto looked up and met his gaze, the sight of his blue eyes chasing the words from Jack’s tongue. Ianto’s eyes lingered for a moment before he stepped back, shrugging Jack’s hand off.

“Please, you really need to leave,” Ianto insisted. “He’ll kill you if he finds you here.”

Jack didn’t doubt that Ianto was right, but he was more than confident that he wouldn’t be found. It was a risk he was willing to take to spend more time with Ianto.

“Then I’ll go before he returns – I promise. But before I do, would some food be too much to ask?” Jack said, giving Ianto his biggest grin. “Please?”

Ianto rolled his eyes, then shot a glance at the closed kitchen door. Jack could tell he was struggling with his fear and what he hoped was a desire for him to stay. After a moment of silence, Ianto sighed and ran a hand through his hair making it stick up on end.

“Fine,” he grumbled as he attempted to flatten his hair.

Jack watched, wondering whether Ianto’s irritation was directed at him or his hair. Either way, the small pout on his lips was adorable. Jack decided it would be worth ruffling Ianto’s feathers – or his hair – just to see it.

“I’ll see what I can find,” Ianto continued. “It’s about time I took a break anyway. Follow me.”

He led the way along the counter to the corner, where a rope hung beside the counters. Crouching down, Ianto swung himself over the edge, and used the rope to abseil to the ground. Jack raised his eyebrows in appreciation. It seemed that Ianto was as fearless as he was attractive. He edged towards the rope and glanced down. It was a long fall, but Jack was determined to prove himself just as able as Ianto. He didn’t hesitate for long, sitting on the side of the counter and beginning to scramble down the rope.

It was too short by a foot. Jack hung in mid air for a moment before dropping down to the ground. He landed awkwardly, staggering backwards into Ianto. Together they crashed to the floor, Jack twisting as they fell, flinging his hands out to take some of his weight. He grunted at the impact.

“Sorry,” he murmured. As his eyes flicked up to meet Ianto’s he realised that the hands closed around his biceps were not pushing him away. The irritation he had expected in Ianto’s eyes was there, but dampened by amusement and what looked like a barest hint of lust.

Jack swallowed, trying to ignore the firmness of the body beneath him and the warm breath on his skin. He conjured up the most hideous images he could muster, attempting to stop the downward rush of blood before Ianto noticed the slight swelling in his trousers, but his mind refused to co-operate. His thoughts kept returning to the man beneath him and the hardness digging into his thigh.

Almost without thinking, he lowered his head, but before he could press his lips to Ianto’s the young man turned his head away and said. “Jack, I’d like to get up now, if you don’t mind.”

The words were accompanied by a nudge to Jack’s shoulder. Pressing down disappointment, Jack scrambled upright before reaching down to grab Ianto’s wrist and help him to his feet.

Ianto brushed himself down, and turned away without meeting Jack’s gaze. “Come on,” he said. “We don’t have long.”

He hurried across the kitchen, his stiff movement testament to his arousal, and stopped outside a tall door that stood slightly ajar. Jack hurried to help him tug it open a little wider and then followed him through the gap.

Jack’s eyes widened as he found himself standing in a large larder. The room was lined with shelves and stacked high with food of every kind: beef, pork, chicken, fruits and vegetables of every kind, huge wheels of cheese, cakes and breads, even several casks of ale and wine. The fruits and vegetables were just as large as everything else in this world, and so were some of the joints of meat; other food, however, was unusually normal in size.

Jack licked his lips and his stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that it had been nearly two days since he had last eaten.

“Stay there,” Ianto told him, then scrambled up another rope and reached along one of the shelves. Jack’s breath caught in his throat as Ianto hooked his arm around the rope and balanced his foot on the shelf below. Ianto didn’t seem fazed by his unsteady position, however, as he sliced hunks of bread, cheese and cold meat before leaning down towards Jack. “Here, take these from me,”

Jack hurried over to stand beneath Ianto, reaching up to take the food from his outstretched hands. Unencumbered, Ianto was able to climb down and rejoin Jack in a matter of moments. He smiled as he took some of the food from Jack. “Thank you. That was much easier than usual.” He nodded towards the door. “This way.”

Ianto led the way across the kitchen to another cupboard, this one smaller and tucked beneath the counter. Ianto handed the food to Jack before reaching up to pull the door open, climbing himself over the lip and holding out his hand to help Jack.

Jack passed up the food and then pulled himself up. His eyes widened as he studied at his surroundings: the cupboard was small and cramped. There was a bed, really nothing more than a mattress and sheets, against one wall. Against the other stood two small chests, a tailors dummy and a small workbench scattered with the tools of a tailor’s trade. A table and a single chair stood in the centre of the room. Jack took a step forward and placed the food upon it. He turned to find Ianto watching him.

“I know it isn’t much,” he said, a faint blush playing on his cheeks the only outward sign of his embarrassment.

Jack thought of his own cottage. It may have been barely furnished and in desperate need of repair but it was more of a home than this stark, cramped cupboard. He walked back to join Ianto, placing a hand on his arm and giving it a quick squeeze.

“I think it’s just fine,” he said. His stomach rumbled loudly and he glanced at the food. “Do you think we can eat now? I’m starving.,”

“I can tell,” Ianto chuckled, breaking the bread in half and handing the larger piece to Jack. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I’ve not,” Jack mumbled through a mouthful of bread, spraying crumbs across the table. He swallowed. “Oops, sorry. I really haven’t eaten in two days.”

The look of mild disgust on Ianto’s face faded to one of sympathy. “I wish I had something more appetising to offer you then,” he said, pushing his half of the bread towards Jack. “Here, I can get some more food later.”

Jack looked up, swallowing another mouthful. “I don’t want you to go hungry, Ianto.” He nudged the bread back across the table. “And don’t tell me you won’t. You’re far too skinny for a man who eats well. You aren’t allowed much more than this, are you? And you don’t dare take any more than that – even when there’s no one around to see.”

“You don’t know what he’s like,” Ianto replied, shaking his head. “If he caught me stealing from him...”

He fell silent, staring at the hunk of bread on the table. Jack reached out and pushed it towards him.

“Take it, Ianto. I’m not going to make you go hungry.”

Ianto took the bread, lifting it to his lips and taking a small bite. He swallowed before turning his gaze back on Jack. “You never answered my question. How did you get here?”

Jack swallowed his mouthful. “I traded my cow for some magic beans,” he said. He chuckled as he realised how absurd that sounded. “They grew; I climbed up the beanstalk and found myself here. What about you?”

Ianto looked down, his shoulders stiffening. He rested his hands against the table, bracing himself against it. It was clearly a painful subject and Jack regretted having brought it up.

“I’m sorry, Ianto. That was insensitive of me – you don’t have to answer.”

Ianto glanced up and shook his head, forcing a smile. “You know, you’re the first person to ask that in a long time. Thinking about it hasn’t got any easier.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and when he answered his tone was haunted. “My Father had a debt to settle – we had no gold so he offered me instead.”

Jack winced. “Ianto... I... I’m sorry.”

He moved around the table to stand behind Ianto, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. He knew he hadn’t heard the full story; there was too much emotion buried in the words for it to be so. He didn’t push it, knowing that the full reality had to be even more painful than this snippet Ianto had chosen to reveal.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Ianto said, turning abruptly and coming face to face with Jack.

Jack’s breath caught, and he swallowed as he realised how close Ianto was. Mesmerised, he watched as Ianto’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to slide his tongue past his teeth, to explore his mouth while his hands explored the rest of him.

“The scent you use is very overpowering,” Ianto murmured, breaking the silence but making no attempt to move.

“Never wear any,” Jack confessed with a grin. He knew he was considered good looking but it was a relief to know that his attraction to Ianto was mutual.

Ianto frowned in confusion, but seemed to inch closer to Jack. “You smell like that naturally?”

“I take it that’s a good thing?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow as he closed the gap. He reached up, cupping Ianto’s cheek in the palm of his hand and caressing his cheek.

The cupboard shook as a loud bang echoed through the castle. Ianto flinched and pushed Jack away. “Stay in here,” he hissed. “Whatever you see, whatever you hear, promise me you’ll stay in here.”

“Ianto, what..?” Jack began.

“Promise me!” Ianto gasped. “Jack, _please!_ ”

“I promise,” Jack said, moving around the table and back into the furthest corner of the cupboard as Ianto hurried to the door and clambered out. Once he was gone, Jack took another look at his surroundings. There was a gap beneath the hinges. It wasn’t wide enough to climb through but it gave a good view of the kitchen. Jack could see the table in the centre of the room, and the cupboards beyond that, but the sides of the kitchen were hidden from his sight He was watching Ianto climb onto the table and admiring the way his trousers pulled tight across his ass when the kitchen door slammed open, banging against the wall and setting everything shaking. The man who strode in was huge – more than four times the size of Jack or Ianto. He was younger than Jack had imagined: blond with brown eyes and a maniacal expression.

“Fee fie foe fum – I smell the blood of an Englishman!” he sang out as he advanced on Ianto.

Jack paled; even though he wasn’t English at all, he was still certain that the giant referred to him. Ianto, however, held his ground – not even flinching – and when he answered, it was with a hint of sarcasm.

“I think you’ll find I’m Welsh.”

Jack had to bite his lip to hold back the laughter that bubbled up. The urge to laugh disappeared as quickly as it appeared as the giant took another step forward and swatted Ianto with the palm of his hand. The force of the blow sent Ianto flying across the table, where he landed with a muffled cry.

“You dare use that tone with me?” the giant snapped. “Need I remind you that I am your lord and Master. You will show me some respect.”

Watching Ianto pick himself up, Jack knew why he had been made to promise he would remain hidden. It was all he could do not to rush out there and make sure that Ianto wasn’t badly injured. The young man brushed himself off, glancing towards the cupboard and shaking his head before turning to face the giant.

“I’m sorry, Master. It won’t happen again.”

The giant grunted. “It had better not – now hurry up and fetch my lunch. You’ve been wasting time again, haven’t you, Jones?”

“Yes, Sir, sorry Sir.”

Jack watched as Ianto hurried to climb from the table, heading towards the larder. After witnessing his cruel treatment, Jack had no idea how the young man had remained so strong throughout his captivity. Jack had thought he had been ill used, but at least there had been the rare kind word and the possibility of payment at the end of a hard day. Ianto had neither and his spirit remained unbroken.

He watched as Ianto carried out bread, cheese, cold meat, fruit and wine, placing it all on a slab of wood beside the table leg. Then he stepped to the side of the wood, and pulled on a rope that dangled below the table. The wood moved slowly upwards, attached to a pulley system. The device was ingenious and Jack knew he would have to ask Ianto if he had been the one to create it.

Ianto scrambled up the side of the table once more, moving the food from the lift to place it before his master.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” he asked, as he stepped away.

“That will be all,” the giant said, dismissing Ianto with a wave of his hand. “Go make yourself useful.”

“Yes Master.” Ianto bowed as he backed away, disappearing out of Jack’s line of sight. Left with nothing else to do, Jack turned his attention to the giant. As he ate, he untied a small bag from his belt, emptying the contents onto the table. Tiny gold coins scattered across the surface, Jack’s eyes widened: he had never before seen that much money. He felt a sudden stab of guilt as he recalled his mother and their poverty. Although he had dreamt of love and adventure, he had known that he had to make finding money his priority. Ianto had driven all thoughts of that from his mind. He had captivated Jack with his looks, inner strength and wit and Jack had felt his own problems fade into the background as he was faced with Ianto’s.

He could not help but think of them now, when confronted with the solution to their monetary problems. There had to be a way to get hold of that money without drawing the giant’s attention.

Then Ianto appeared on the countertop directly opposite Jack, and all his planning ceased. Jack knew that the only way to get the money would be to steal it. He had just seen Ianto’s punishment for one smart remark. What would he suffer if gold was to go missing? For surely the giant would blame his servant. Jack had no desire to see Ianto hurt on his behalf. The young man had suffered enough in his short life. That was not the only problem. Jack knew that he could ignore his own conscience and while he could lie to his mother, he had no idea what Ianto would think of him. He was shocked to realise that his opinion of him mattered; he didn’t want Ianto to think that he would use him as a means to get rich – as he suspected others had done before.

He watched the giant pile up the coins, inhaling sharply as he realised that the coins were not tiny, they only seemed that way in comparison to their surroundings. Jack grinned, redoubling his attempts to think up a way to take the money without hurting Ianto in the process. Then something occurred to him – something so obvious that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. He let his eyes stray back to Ianto and his face split into a grin. Yes, there was only one solution to his situation.

 

Jack went over his plan time and again while he waited for the giant to leave and for Ianto to be left alone again. By the time the giant rose to his feet, leaving the money bag on the table, he was still unsure of the best way to put it to Ianto. The giant strode over to Ianto and shoved him down onto the countertop, holding him in place with one finger.

“Take my gold to the treasury then return to clean up this mess,” he said, prodding Ianto in the chest again. “I expect it to be spotless by the time I return.” He turned, and strode back out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Jack was out of the cupboard before the echo had died away, rushing across the kitchen and using the rope to clamber up onto the counter. Ianto had picked himself up when he reached the top and was dusting himself off. He looked up at Jack before casting a glance at the door.

“I told you to stay hidden.”

Jack shrugged. “I’ll hide if he returns. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, just a few bruises.” He glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d spare me a thought after seeing that gold.”

Jack took a step back, unable to hide the hurt that flickered across his face. Suddenly, his plan didn’t seem quite as wonderful. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you think I would.”

“No,” Ianto shook his head, closing the gap between him and Jack. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have said that. It’s only... there have been others who have done just that. I want to believe you’re a good man, Jack, but I’ve been deceived so many times and...”

“Ianto, stop,” Jack interrupted. Then he reached forward and tugged Ianto into his arms. “I understand. I wasn’t going to deceive you – I do need that gold but I wanted to know if you would get into trouble if he noticed it missing. I don’t want to cause you any harm.”

Ianto sighed, closing his eyes. “Are you really so poor that you’d resort to theft?”

Jack sighed. “I don’t want to steal but there’s nothing else I can do. I’ve tried getting work but no one will give me any. They don’t trust me, and I don’t blame them. I need to get some money from somewhere, Ianto.”

“Then take it. You need it more than he does,” Ianto said, pulling away and striding to the edge of the cupboard. He turned at the edge. “I won’t get into any trouble for it, he has so much he probably won’t even notice.”

“Actually,” Jack started after him, “I was hoping you’d come back to Cardiff with me.”

Ianto’s head whipped round and he took a step backwards into thin air. He pulled back, arms windmilling in an attempt to regain his balance, but Jack was there first. He slid his arms around Ianto’s waist and pulled him close against him. Ianto regained his equilibrium and pushed Jack away, shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jack pressed, not willing to give up on his idea so soon. He knew that Ianto was attracted to him, and the reverse was certainly true, and they would both be happier if Ianto wasn’t imprisoned here for the rest of his days. “Think about it Ianto, think of all the things you’ve missed... the freedom, the company, the...”

“The coffee...” Ianto finished, the words a mere sigh.

Jack frowned. “Well, I wasn’t going to say that,” he continued, “But please, Ianto – come with me. You can take half the money and make your own home somewhere if you like, or you can stay with me.”

“I can’t come with you, Jack.” Ianto shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. He would track me down and kill us both. You can take the money, all of if, but I won’t be leaving with you.”

“But Ianto...” Jack protested, his heart sinking. He had wanted the money, but more than that he had wanted Ianto to come back with him, so that he could get to know him properly and maybe let their fledgling friendship develop into something more.

“That’s my final word on the matter, Jack.” Ianto said. “I’m not leaving. This is my home. Now, stay there.”

He disappeared over the cupboard edge. Jack sank down onto the wood, watching Ianto scale the table to fetch the moneybag. He knew that Ianto’s words were just a front. The young man wanted nothing more than to leave, but Jack knew that there was nothing more he could say or do to change Ianto’s mind this time. His fear and distrust was too deeply rooted to break.

He rose as Ianto reappeared over the edge and dropped the moneybag in front of him. It landed with a heavy clink. Jack reached for it, wincing as he settled the weight on his back. For once he was glad of the physical labour that allowed him to lift the bag with ease. He rose and glanced to Ianto, running his gaze up and down the young man’s body and wondering at the muscles hidden beneath his slender appearance.

“Walk me to the window?” he asked, shooting Ianto a smile.

Ianto nodded, and led the way across the counter. Jack followed, wishing there was some way of convincing Ianto to join him without causing an argument. He knew his chances were non-existent but that didn’t stop him from hoping when Ianto turned to him at the windowsill.

“I guess this is goodbye, then?” Ianto said, and Jack’s hopes shattered.

He readjusted the bag’s position on his shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be,” he began, continuing in a rush before Ianto could reiterate his refusal to go with him. “I’ll come back to see you.”

“You can’t – it’s too dangerous.” Ianto protested, his voice cracking and tears gathering in his eyes. Hope was written so clearly across his face and, for once, Ianto was making no attempt to hide his emotions.

“I don’t care,” Jack told him, reaching forward to cup his face in his hand. “You’re worth it.”

He gasped as Ianto collided with his chest. Arms wound around his waist, pulling him close and soft lips pressed against his. The money sack slipped from Jack’s fingers as he wrapped his arms around Ianto, returning the kiss. He ran his tongue along Ianto’s lips and they parted for him, letting him in to explore his mouth. Jack’s tongue trailed across Ianto’s, letting them twine together even as his hands roamed across Ianto’s body, lingering on his shoulders, his hips, his ass. It was desperate and messy and then Ianto’s hands were pressed against his chest and instead of pulling Jack closer they were pushing him away. Jack released Ianto and he staggered back, widening the gap between them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jack shook his head and stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He reached out and ran his thumb along Ianto’s lower lips. The younger man shuddered and, when Jack removed his hand, swiped his tongue over the path Jack had taken.

“I don’t see anything to apologise about,” Jack told him, “In fact, I wouldn’t be opposed to doing that again next time. Unless...?”

He trailed off, letting the question hang in the air, unspoken. Ianto pulled away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t come with you.”

Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping. He turned away, shouldering the money sack.

“Then I guess I’ll see you soon,” he said. He turned towards the window, climbing up on the sill and walking to the tree that grew beside it. At the edge he glanced over his shoulder once more, catching Ianto’s eye and shooting him a wide grin. Then, he swung himself into the tree and began his descent.

 

The sun was setting when Jack reached the foot of the beanstalk. Even when he discounted the time when they had been parted by the giant’s presence, Jack hadn’t realised that he had spent so long in Ianto’s company. What had felt like minutes had been an entire afternoon.

He dropped the last few feet and turned towards the cottage.

“Mother!” he called. “Mother – you’ll never guess what’s happened?”

He hurried towards the cottage door, reaching it as it was flung open. His mother was framed in the entrance, arms folded across her chest. She didn’t flinch when the door thudded against the wall.

“And where have you been?”

Jack flinched, taking a step back and pulling free the money bag. His mother didn’t notice it, nor did she give him a chance to explain. She strode forward, grabbing his arm and steering him into the cottage.

“Oh don’t answer that – I know exactly where you’ve been. I saw that monstrosity and just knew you’d climbed it. But I never thought you would leave without telling me. And what if you hadn’t come back – what then? I’d have been left wondering what happened to you until I died!”

Her voice had grown steadily more strident as she continued to rant. Jack took a step forward, and then another, risking a slap to pull her into a hug.

“I’m back now, Mother,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow as she relaxed in his arms. “I was always going to come home. And look!”

He stepped back, opening up the money bag and tipping two of the coins onto the palm of his hand.

His mother’s eyes went wide and she raised a hand to her mouth. “Jack, where did you get this?”

She peered into the bag, sliding her hand inside and lifting out a handful of the coins. They slid between her fingers, landing back in the bag with quiet clinks. Jack placed the bag on the table, letting the coins spill across the surface. “There was a castle above the clouds,” he explained. “A _giant’s_ castle. He had so much of it, and all of it stolen. I was sure he wouldn’t miss one bag.”

“You stole it.” His mother shook her head. “Jack...” she began to place the money back in the bag. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Jack sighed, reaching out and catching her hands. “Mother, I know I shouldn’t. But it isn’t fair, is it? That he should have so much and us nothing at all. Besides, if he stole it in the first place...” He trailed off uncertain. He didn’t know for sure that the giant had stolen the money but he was certain he hadn’t come by it honestly. Stealing was a lesser crime compared to how he treated Ianto. “Mother, I know it was wrong but I can’t bring myself to care. We need this money more than he does and I think I was meant to take it. The man who gave me the beans told me they’d grant me riches and adventure. Maybe they have.”

And love, he added silently, thinking of Ianto. Already he wanted to climb the beanstalk to see Ianto once more. Jack was no fool – he knew love didn’t happen in an instant, but he also knew that Ianto was someone he could very easily fall for. He knew that he would be climbing the beanstalk as soon as the next chance arose.

“Mother, please don’t make me take it back. We need this,” he pleaded.

His mother sighed then and, turning her hand to give his a quick squeeze, smiled. “I can’t pretend I like it, but I will agree that we need it.” She brushed Jack’s hand off, gathering the coins together and retying the neck of the bag. “Oh, Jack.” Her smile widened. “This will last us quite some time. Tomorrow you can go to the market and buy some food. Then you can go to the Williams’ farm and buy some straw to fix the roof.”

She turned to the fireplace, reaching up the chimney to place the bag in a gap in the brickwork. Jack listened as she reeled off a list of jobs that needed doing. He wasn’t really paying attention: he was thinking about Ianto and planning what he would say when he saw him next. Actually, he wasn’t planning on saying very much. After sweeping in and pulling Ianto into a long, searing kiss he hoped that there wouldn’t be much time for talking.

“...and when you find time you can chop down that beanstalk. Who knows what could follow you down...”

His mother’s litany finally broke through his fantasy, and he twisted to face her. “No!”

He faltered as she turned to him, her eyebrow raised.

“I can’t,” he explained. “I just... can’t. I can’t explain it... But not yet, Mother. Please.”

It would have been easier to tell his mother about Ianto. Jack knew she would have understood. For now, though, Jack wanted to keep Ianto to himself. When Ianto was here with him Jack would gladly show him off to everyone but until then... he just wanted something that was just his – that couldn’t be sullied with cruel comments and lies.

“You want to climb it again, don’t you?” his mother hissed. “Oh Jack, what if something happens to you – what am I to do then? You’re just like your Father – always rushing off to do something daring.”

“I’ll be fine, Mother.” Jack insisted, sitting on the bench beside her. “I promise, I won’t do anything too daring, but this is something I need to do.

“Fine,” his mother sighed. “Fine, it can stay for now, but you must be careful, Jack. I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to you.” She rose to her feet and ran a hand through his hair. “Get some rest. We’ll have a long day ahead of us, tomorrow.”

She smiled brightly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before turning and heading towards her bedroom. Jack waited until the door had closed behind her before scrambling to his feet and over to the window. The beanstalk stood illuminated by the moonlight, Jack leant out gazing up to where it disappeared into the clouds. He grinned, wondering what Ianto was doing at that very moment.

“Goodnight, Ianto,” he murmured, blowing a kiss in the direction of the beanstalk. “Hope you dream of me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Although his mother had allowed the beanstalk to stay, she was still reluctant to allow Jack to climb it. There was no end to the jobs she gave him. When the walls were painted and the roof repaired there were seeds to plant and a chicken coop to build. Jack worked dawn to dusk for a full week before he got chance to visit Ianto again.

It was mid afternoon when Jack strode into the cottage and dropped a sack of food on the table. His mother rose from her seat by the fireplace, unpacking the food and placing it in the cupboards and on shelves. “This will last us at least a week,” she said, turning round and gesturing at the bag Jack still held. “What’s in that one?”

Jack looked down at it, then back up at his mother. “Oh, just a few things I bought for myself. I thought I’d climb the beanstalk again today. The money’s going to run out eventually and I could see what else I could find. I’ll take this for my lunch.”

He hated lying to his mother but he didn’t want to admit that he’d bought the food in this sack for Ianto. Jack hated to think of him living off bread and cheese so had bought a selection of his own favourite foods to take with him, hoping that Ianto would find something he enjoyed.

“You want to go now?” his mother asked, looking round at him. “But it’ll be sunset in a few hours. You don’t want to be climbing that beanstalk in the dark.”

Jack glanced out of the window. It was true, the sun was low in the sky but that had been his intention. He had known his mother wouldn’t like it but if it allowed him to spend a few more hours with Ianto then he would happily face her displeasure.

“Mother, there’s still a few hours before dark. If I go now I’ll have the whole night to search for more gold while the giant is sleeping. It’ll be safer that way.”

He turned back to offer his mother what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“You really are determined to go back up there?” his mother sighed, shaking her head as she regarded the beanstalk. Then she turned and walked across the room stopping at the back door and removing the sword from where it hung. “There really isn’t anything more I can do to dissuade you,” she explained as she held out the sword, “But I will do everything I can to ensure you come home safely.”

Jack took the sword from her reverentially, buckling it around his waist. “Mother, I... I’ll be careful – and I’ll take good care of Father’s sword. I promise.” He tied the bag of food to his belt and crouched to press a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning – and no later.”

Without another word he hurried out of the door and towards the beanstalk. Grabbing hold of the lowest leaf stem he hauled himself upwards and began to climb.

 

The moon had risen when Jack reached the castle. It had been easier to climb the beanstalk the second time. Anticipation of seeing Ianto again had lent him speed and thoughts of what he would say – and do – to the young Welshman had kept him from growing bored.

All of that sounded trite and ridiculous when he saw Ianto.

He was standing on the counter, sweeping crumbs into a large pile, limping with every step. Then, Ianto turned in his direction and Jack gasped as he saw the bruises darkening one side of Ianto’s face.

Jack cast his eyes around the room for any sign of the giant before squeezing through a gap in the window and dropping down onto the countertop. But he had forgotten the distance to the counter, or else he was distracted by Ianto, and he fell forward onto his hands and knees. When he picked himself up and dusted down his shirt he looked up to find Ianto staring at him.

“Ianto,” he murmured, hurrying along the counter towards him. He stopped short, reaching out to cup Ianto’s uninjured cheek and turning his face so he could see the bruises. “What happened to you?”

Ianto pulled away. “What are you doing here, Jack? Have you run out of money already?”

It wasn’t the reaction Jack had expected from Ianto. True, he hadn’t expected the reunion he had fantasised about but nor had he anticipated the barely restrained anger he was getting. He wasn’t sure he deserved it either. He took a step forward, “I came back to see you, Ianto, I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. My mother’s tried everything to keep me home. This is the first chance I’ve had to come back.”

Ianto shook his head, turning his back on Jack and continuing to sweep the crumbs into a pile.

“Why would someone like you want anything to do with me?” His tone was softer now but the edge Jack had heard before hadn’t entirely disappeared.

Jack placed his hand on Ianto’s shoulder, leaving it there even when he flinched at the contact. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week, Ianto. I’d have been here every day if I’d been able. I may have told my mother that I’m here for more money but I don’t intend on looking for any.”

Ianto turned around, raising an eyebrow. “What do you intend on doing, Jack?”

Jack shrugged, reaching out to grasp Ianto’s hand and tug him closer. “I don’t know. That’s entirely up to you.” He reached out to trace the edge of one of Ianto’s bruises. “This is my fault, isn’t it? He found out about the money.”

“Two days ago,” Ianto told him. “He hit me... and I fell...” He swallowed. “From the table.”

Jack cursed. “I am so sorry, Ianto, so very sorry. I should never have taken the money.”

He had known that Ianto would be blamed for its disappearance. He should have guessed something like this would happen. Jack curled his fingers around his sword hilt

Ianto reached out, slowly unwinding Jack’s fingers from around the hilt. “It wasn’t your fault,” he told Jack, giving the hand a sharp squeeze. “I told you to take the money. Don’t do anything stupid on my behalf. I don’t want to see you killed. Anyway, I landed on the chair. It wasn’t as bad as it looks.”

Jack nodded his assent and took a step back from Ianto. “At least accept this in return for your forgiveness?” He untied the sack from his belt and held it out to Ianto. “It’s all for you. Although, I thought you might like to share it with me?”

Ianto frowned as he took the bag. He untied the neck and peered inside. The confusion slipped from his face and he looked up, a huge smile blossoming on his face. “You brought me coffee?”

Jack shrugged. “You mentioned you liked it so I thought I’d buy you some. I hope I got the right kind.”

Ianto’s hand snaked around the back of Jack’s head, pulling him into a kiss. As their lips touched, Jack slid his arms around Ianto, resting one in the small of his back and burying the other in his hair. He groaned, letting his hand drop lower and giving Ianto’s ass a sharp squeeze. A gasp slipped from Ianto’s lips and he squirmed, pressing the palms of his hands against Jack’s chest and pushing him back.

“Stop,” he murmured, turning his head aside and shrugging off Jack’s hands. “Jack, I can’t do this.” He dropped his head into his hands, running them through his hair. “I...”

He faltered, letting his breath out in one long sigh. Jack shifted uncomfortably, tugging on his pants to alleviate some of the pressure on his swollen cock. Ianto had turned his back on him now and was clearly trying to return his breathing to normal. Jack suspected that if he were to turn around he would see that Ianto also sported an impressive erection.

And then Jack understood. Ianto clearly hadn’t been with anyone for some time and the kiss alone had almost taken him over the edge. He hadn’t wanted the embarrassment of coming in his pants and Jack couldn’t blame him. He took a step closer to Ianto but refrained from touching him, suspecting that it wouldn’t be appreciated at this moment.

“Ianto, are you alright? You look like you could use some air,” he ventured. “Why don’t we go for a walk, we could take the food with us?”

Ianto spun back to face Jack, his face was still flushed but his breathing had evened out. He nodded. “That sounds good. Just give me a few minutes, I’ll go and get some things – a saucepan, cups and blankets, you know? So I can make you coffee.”

Jack smiled. “Do you want me to wait for you here?”

He suspected that Ianto wanted some time alone and, if he were entirely honest with himself, he knew that a moment away from Ianto would help banish his burgeoning arousal.

Ianto nodded. “Wait by the window – I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He passed over the bag of food and limped towards the edge of the counter. Jack watched as he sat on the edge and lowered himself down to the ground. It took all his strength of will not to follow when a muffled groan carried back to him. It was clear that Ianto was trying to hide the amount of pain he was in and Jack didn’t want to interfere where he clearly wasn’t wanted. He swung the bag of food over his shoulder and headed back towards the window. He hadn’t been waiting long before Ianto reappeared, pulling himself up onto the countertop. He winced as he picked himself up, waving off Jack’s attempts to help.

“I’m fine,” he panted, staggering over to the wall and leaning heavily against it. “It aches more at night. This doesn’t help either.”

He let the bundle he carried drop to the counter where it landed with a quiet thud. Jack took a step closer, sliding his arm around Ianto’s waist and taking his weight. “Ianto, are you sure there’s nothing seriously injured. That table... it’s a long fall.”

“I’m fine,” Ianto said, brushing off Jack’s support. He turned to meet Jack’s gaze and offered him a soft smile. “It’s just bruising. You shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Someone has to,” Jack murmured, grabbing the bundle and stepping up onto the windowsill. He turned back and held out his hand, palm up, to Ianto. “Now are you going to carry on being stubborn or are you going to admit you’re in pain and let me help you?”

Ianto hesitated, a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. Just as Jack had begun to feel sure he would refuse his offer of help, Ianto sighed and took his hand, pulling himself up and onto the windowsill.

“Thank you,” he muttered, releasing Jack’s hand and putting another step between them.

Jack nodded, adjusting his grip on the two bundles. “No problem,” he replied, he turned to look around the garden, searching out a suitable place to sit. “You know this place better than I do,” he said as Ianto limped over to join him, “Where do you suggest sitting?”

“There,” Ianto pointed towards a lone willow tree that stood amidst the long grass. “There’s a pond just beside the tree. You can’t see it from the castle so we’ll be fine if my Master looks out of the window.”

Jack nodded, squinting to see if he could catch a glimpse of the pond through the long grass. No, there was no chance of them being spotted from the castle. That was good. He didn’t want tonight to be disrupted by anything. “It sounds perfect, Ianto.”

The gap between the windowsill and the tree that grew beside it wasn’t wide and Jack was able to stride across without any trouble. Ianto hesitated on the edge of the sill, eventually taking a deep breath and stepping over the gap. Jack leant forward, catching him as he stumbled onto the branch. Ianto’s face was bright red as he steadied himself, pulling away from Jack to stand unaided. His stance was awkward, most of his weight supported on one leg and Jack was conscious of him falling and doing himself another injury.

Ianto took a deep breath and inched towards the trunk of the tree.

“I’ve done this more times than I can count,” he muttered, and Jack wasn’t sure whether he was meant to have overheard. He strode up behind Ianto.

“And you’ll do it again,” he murmured into his ear. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”

Jack knew which option he would prefer. If he were to lead the way he would be able to help Ianto if he got into difficulty. He knew that the Welshman would be embarrassed if he had to ask for help but he wanted him to know that the offer was there if needed.

Ianto glanced over his shoulder, meeting Jack’s eyes. “You go first,” he said, his eyes communicating the thanks he would not give voice to. “I’ll wait here until you’re down. I wouldn’t want to make you fall.”

Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto’s neck, managing to hide the smile that his words had caused. As far as Ianto was concerned, Jack knew he was already falling hard. He broke away from Ianto and scrambled down the side of the tree. Once on the ground he stowed the bags in the roots of the tree and moved back to stand beneath Ianto.

“Take it slowly,” he urged as the Welshman began to lower himself down the side of the tree. His progress was slow and Jack could see him, on more than one occasion, try to take a much more difficult route than the one he himself had taken. Ianto only slipped once during his descent. Jack started forward, his breath caught in his throat as Ianto scrabbled for – and found – his footing once again.

Ianto was quite exhausted when he reached the bottom of the tree but he shrugged off Jack’s suggestion that they rest.

“I’ll be fine. If I sit down now I don’t think I’ll get up again.” His limp was more pronounced as he moved towards Jack but his face was lined with determination.

Jack grabbed the bags and tossed them over his shoulder before Ianto could as much as glance in their direction. That was one burden he would not allow Ianto to take on, one small thing he could do to help him without the need for it to be offered or asked for. He waited for Ianto to reach his side before gesturing towards the tree with his free hand. “Lead the way,”

Ianto shook his head. “No, you go ahead and I’ll catch up with you. There’s no reason for you to wait for me. If you start a campfire I’ll be able to make that coffee I promised you sooner.

Jack grinned at Ianto and raised his eyebrows. “I can think of a very good reason to follow you.”

Ianto’s lips quivered and he ducked his head to hide the blush that was spreading up his neck. It was clear that he wasn’t used to being complimented and Jack knew that was something that had to be put right – and soon.

“Besides,” he murmured as Ianto began to regain his composure. “I came here to spend time with you. I want to make the most of tonight.”

He held out a hand in Ianto’s direction and was pleasantly surprised when he felt Ianto take it, twining their fingers together and giving a short, sharp squeeze.

“Let’s not waste time then,” Ianto faltered and lowered his gaze. “We could get there faster if...”

It was clear that compliments weren’t the only thing Ianto was unused to. Jack knew that he wanted to ask for help but didn’t know how to put it into words. There had been no one who Ianto could go to for help, and he doubted that he would have received it even if he had. He slid his arm around Ianto’s waist and tugged him closer. Ianto leant in against him, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmured as they began to walk in the direction of the tree. Ianto’s face bore a grimace of pain but his limp was less pronounced now that he was supported by Jack. Despite that, it still took a while for them to reach the tree, and barely a word was spoken until they were stood beneath its branches.

“Wow,” Jack breathed, gazing out across the water towards the other side. “I thought you said this was a pond?”

Ianto shrugged as he took the bags from Jack. “It is a pond to him.” He untied the bundle, spreading out the blanket beneath the tendrils and sinking down onto it. “I’ll get some coffee started, shall I?”

Jack murmured his assent as he turned full circle to view their surroundings. They were seated between the roots of the willow tree and the pond, the dirt floor forming a small clearing surrounded by overgrown grass. Close to where Ianto had laid the blanket was a small ring of stones, the ground inside charred black.

“This place is wonderful,” he said, moving to sit down beside Ianto.

The Welshman smiled, he had gathered a collection of twigs and leaves from around the tree roots and stacked them into a small pile inside the ring. He was crouched over it, striking a piece of flint in an effort to light it and he wasn’t having much luck.

“Here,” Jack moved over and held out his hand, “Let me.”

Ianto sighed and dropped the flint into Jack’s palm moving away.

“You must think I’m pathetic,” he muttered as he grabbed hold of a pan and slammed it down onto the blanket. He grabbed a small flask of water and poured it into the pan, not caring that it splashed over the sides.

“Hey,” Jack glanced over his shoulder. “I think you’re anything but. You’re hurt, Ianto, and you need to rest. There’s nothing pathetic in that.”

He struck the flint again and sparks flew onto the kindling starting up a small flame. Leaning forward, Jack blew gently on the flame until it caught the surrounding twigs. When a small fire was crackling in the ring of stones, Ianto leant over to place a small tripod above the flames and then rested the pot atop it. Jack pulled the bag of food towards him and began to empty it, placing bread, cold meat, fruit and a small cream cake on the blanket between him and Ianto. The coffee beans he passed to Ianto, who opened the bag, tipped a few into a small pestle and began to grind them.

Jack thought about offering his help but stopped when he saw the peaceful expression on Ianto’s face. In the short time Jack had known Ianto, he hadn’t ever seen him looking this content. He smiled, deciding not to interrupt something that was obviously being enjoyed, and settled back to watch. After a few moments Ianto glanced over at him and returned the smile. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” Jack replied. “You look happy,”

Ianto smiled. “I enjoy making coffee,” he replied as he returned to his task. “Making a good cup of coffee takes a lot of care and precision – it’s like tailoring, I suppose – and if you’re concentrating on that then you can forget about everything else.” He shuffled closer to the fire, lifting the lid of the pot and pouring the ground beans inside. “It won’t be long now.”

He turned back to collect two mugs and placed them beside the fire. “I can’t offer you any sugar or cream,” he said, “I hope you don’t mind.”

Jack had completely forgotten about sugar and cream. He had always taken his coffee strong and dark – when they could afford it – and he hadn’t thought to buy anything to add to the drink. “I prefer mine black,” he told Ianto. “I didn’t even think of buying them. Should I have – for you, I mean?”

Ianto wrinkled his nose, pouring the coffee into the mugs. “No, there’s no point in making a good cup of coffee if you’re just going to ruin it.” He handed one of the mugs to Jack. “I hope you like it; I’m a little out of practice.”

Jack placed the coffee before him and gestured to the food he had set out. “I hope I bought something you like?”

He had worried over the choice of food, having no idea what Ianto would like. He needn’t have done, though. Ianto had taken a chunk of bread and a slice of beef and was gazing around at the rest of the food. He turned back to Jack and grinned.

“Jack, this is... no one has ever done anything like this for me. Not since my Mother...”

He fell silent, looking out across the pond as he ate. Jack shifted closer towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and running it down his back. Ianto stiffened and Jack, sensing his discomfort, pulled his hand back, instead taking up his mug of coffee and taking a swig.

“Wow,” Jack breathed as he swallowed, quickly taking another sip. The coffee was rich and heady, causing an explosion of taste that lingered even as it slid down his throat. He looked at Ianto’s hunched shoulders, “this has got to be the best coffee I’ve ever tasted, Ianto. You’ve not changed your mind about coming home with me, have you?”

Ianto inclined his head towards Jack, a small smile on his face. He took a small sip of his own coffee, his eyes flickering closed and a blissful sigh escaping his lips. “I wanted to go with you the first time you asked,” he confessed. “I was scared, though, of my Master and of setting myself up for more rejection. Not that I thought...”

Jack shook his head, shifting closer to Ianto and sliding an arm around his shoulders. This time it wasn’t shrugged off. Jack couldn’t deny that he was hurt by Ianto’s lack of faith in him, but he understood it. He had experienced enough rejections in his life to make him wary of risking yet more. “I asked you to come with me – I would never have turned you away.”

“I do want to believe you, Jack,” Ianto sighed, “And I know you came back for me, but I just can’t believe that you would want me. Even my own father didn’t want me.”

Jack turned his head, pressing a kiss against the corner of Ianto’s mouth. “I can’t imagine anyone not wanting you, Ianto. Only a fool would reject you.” He shook his head. “I can’t understand how you came to be here, Ianto.”

“Like I said, my father had a debt to settle.” Ianto turned his face away from Jack, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “It’s been years since I was last happy. I sometimes forget that I ever was.

“Before all this,” he gestured around at the castle, “I lived in a small village – about a day’s ride from Cardiff. My father was a master tailor and people used to come from miles around to have him tailor for him. We had plenty of money and I... I didn’t want for anything. Not until I was thirteen, anyway. That was when my mother caught the pox.”

He faltered, and when he continued his voice was hushed and fractured. “Father did everything he could – he bought the most expensive medicines, called in the best doctors but they all said the same thing: there was nothing to be done, there isn’t a cure for the pox. Then I woke one morning to find him gone.”

Ianto lurched to his feet, taking halting steps towards the pond. “No one knew where he’d gone, and I was left to do what I could for Mother. There was no one else – my sister Rhiannon lived in the next village but she was expecting, and the neighbours wouldn’t come anywhere near. I was on my own and I didn’t know what to do.”

Jack leapt up, closing the distance between them in three strides. Wrapping his arms around Ianto he pulled him against his chest. He could easily guess what had happened next, and he knew how Ianto would have felt all too well.

“Calm down,” he murmured. He pressed his lips to Ianto’s temple, rubbing a hand up and down his back. It was clear to Jack that Ianto hadn’t spoken about his family for a long time and all the emotion he had locked inside of him was now spilling out. Ianto jerked away from him, hobbling back to the blanket and sinking down to the ground.

“There must have been something I could have done to keep her alive,” he whispered, directing his words at the ground.

Jack moved to sit beside him, close enough to offer some form of comfort without touching. Ianto’s reaction suggested that he didn’t want that – or believed he was undeserving of it. “It wasn’t your fault,” Jack reassured him. “There was nothing you could have done. If the best doctors couldn’t help her then nor could a thirteen year old boy.”

“Father thought there was.” Ianto muttered. “He came home the day after she died with a vial of potion that he swore would have saved her. All I’d had to do was keep her alive.”

He broke off, wiping a hand over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“After mother died, he changed.” Ianto’s eyes were fixed on the ground, his voice a steady monotone that made it sound as if it were someone else’s life he were relating and not his own. “He started drinking heavily. He’d spend every night at the tavern, coming home when he was thrown out and he was... unpleasant when he was drunk.”

There was a hitch in Ianto’s breathing. Jack wanted to wrap his arms around him again but he suspected that it would not be well received. He reached out and placed a hand on Ianto’s forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“What happened?” he probed when the silence went on too long.

Ianto’s breath came out in a harsh laugh. “I tried my best to run the shop but I wasn’t as good as him, and who would buy clothes made by a child? I had to hide some money to buy food and materials else he would have spent it all on ale. Then, three years later a stranger appeared in our village. He came to our house and demanded to speak to my father. He’d made a deal, you see, with the man – promising him gold in return for the potion that would have saved Mother’s life – and it was time to pay it. We didn’t have the gold so my father offered me in exchange. The stranger took one look at me and agreed.”

Ianto laughed again, the sound hollow and without humour. He finally turned his head to look at Jack. “It wasn’t until he brought me here that I discovered he was a giant, and by then it was too late. There isn’t a way out of here except for those made by magic.”

Jack smiled. “Then it’s a good thing that’s how I’ve been getting in and out.” He shuffled a little closer, swinging his arm around Ianto’s shoulders and hugging him to his side. “And it’s how you’re going to get out, too. I promise, Ianto, you’re coming home with me and I’m going to make sure you’re happy again.”

He reached behind him, dipping his finger into the cream on top of the cake then he turned back and daubed it on Ianto’s lips. Ianto started and let out a cry and Jack swept in to press a kiss to his lips, swiping his tongue over his lips to remove the cream. When he pulled back, Ianto let out a delighted laugh and took hold of Jack’s shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him. Jack’s lips parted and Ianto’s tongue slipped between them, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, tugging at his shirt and pulling it free from his trousers.

Jack let out a low, breathy groan as Ianto’s tongue caressed his. He leant back, gripping at Ianto’s shoulders to pull him along, until they were nestled in between the roots of the tree. He slid his hands down Ianto’s back, letting them settle on his ass. His grasp tightened as Ianto finally freed his shirt from his pants and let his hands slide up his chest, his fingers brushing over hardened nipples. Jack’s head fell back with a moan and Ianto began to press kisses down his throat before returning to his pulse point and pressing a lingering kiss to that spot. Jack arched and thrust his hips forward, grinding them against Ianto’s.

Ianto leapt back, falling back on his ass and scrambling away from Jack. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, “I can’t.”

He twisted away, glancing over the pond, his beck bent and shoulders slumped. Jack hesitated a moment, wondering just what had gone wrong, before sitting up and inching towards Ianto. He placed his hand between the younger man’s shoulders.

“I don’t want to sound as if I’m prying, but I don’t understand what just happened? I thought you were enjoying it?”

Ianto sighed and twisted around to look at Jack. He picked up Jack’s hand and twined their fingers together. “I was enjoying it,” he confessed, “But I don’t want you to change your mind about taking me with you when...” he dropped his gaze, his eyes flickering closed, “When you find out how terrible I am in bed.”

“What?” Jack asked, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back an incredulous laugh. He couldn’t understand why Ianto thought that would matter to him or why it would change his mind about taking him home with him..He tilted Ianto’s chin up, leaning forward to ghost a kiss over Ianto’s lips. “Open your eyes, Ianto.”

Ianto’s eyes flickered open, and Jack smiled.

“Now, tell me why you think you’re terrible in bed?” he asked. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer – he couldn’t imagine it being anything good.

“That’s what the last man I slept with said,” Ianto whispered. Jack sighed. He wanted to know what – or who – had put the haunted look in Ianto’s eyes but he couldn’t bear to ask. He didn’t think that Ianto could handle another emotional confession tonight – and for that matter nor could he. There would be plenty of time to reveal secrets but not right now. Now was the time to comfort Ianto, not dredge up memories that would hurt him more. He slid his arm around Ianto’s shoulders.

“Then he was a cruel, insensitive idiot,” he murmured into his ear, “Who didn’t know what he was talking about.” He leant in and pressed a kiss to his hair and Ianto shuddered against him. “I’ve not known you very long but I can’t believe that you would be rubbish in bed. Inexperienced maybe, but that doesn’t bother me at all.”

Ianto turned around so fast that he almost collided with Jack.

“It doesn’t?” he asked, the tremor in his voice noticeable despite his efforts to hide it.

“Really,” Jack confirmed, winking as he added “Because there’s only one way you’re going to get experience.” That drew a smile from Ianto and Jack took the opportunity to edge forward until he was sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him. He nudged him gently. “Don’t think about it now. Let’s eat some cake and enjoy the rest of the night. We shouldn’t let this spoil it.”

As much as he wanted Ianto, Jack wasn’t prepared to add to his discomfort by pressing the issue. He suspected that Ianto was so starved of human contact he would agree without much persuasion – the regrets would come later, for both of them. He took hold of the cream cake and sliced it in half, passing the larger one to Ianto. “So,” he said as he leant back against the tree, “Since I want to know everything about you, I’m going to start by asking about your favourite colour.”

He threw a piece of cake into the air and caught it in his mouth. Ianto rolled his eyes. “Well, red is my colour...”

“You can say that again,” Jack muttered, casting an appraising look up and down Ianto’s body. The red shirt he wore really was stunning against his pale skin. He was surprised when Ianto lay back beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other.

“I’ve not finished,” Ianto chided, turning his gaze to Jack. “Lately, though, I’ve had a fondness for blue.”

As if to make his point explicit he drew his hand down Jack’s arm, fingers playing with the blue fabric of his sleeve. Jack grinned, glad that his feelings for Ianto were returned. Perhaps fondness would be enough when Ianto learned of his past – Jack hoped it would be. The thought of Ianto rejecting him almost sent the smile slipping from his face but before it could – before Ianto could notice anything was amiss – he leant forward and pressed his lips to Ianto’s. It wasn’t a prelude to anything, simply an affirmation of his feelings.

Ianto pulled back, breaking the kiss but his fingers remained splayed against Jack’s cheek. When he spoke it was little more than a whisper. “Is it my turn to ask a question now?”

They spoke for hours, asking questions in turn, steering away from topics that would bring up unwanted emotion and lingering on favourite foods and pastimes, and their hopes and dreams for the future. The moon hung full in the sky when Jack finally stopped talking, feeling Ianto shiver beside him as the cool wind blew around them.

“It’s late,” he murmured, sitting up. “We should get back. You haven’t changed your mind, have you? About coming back with me?”

Ianto sat up and began to collect the leftover food and equipment. The apple cores were tossed into the grass and the crumbs of bread and cake left for the birds, but everything else was placed in the bag again. Jack waited for Ianto’s answer, knowing by the set of his shoulders and refusal to look at him that he wasn’t going to like it.

“I think we both know I can’t,” Ianto replied, once he had sealed the bag. He twisted around to look at Jack. “You said that you got here by climbing a beanstalk. Jack, you saw how I struggled to climb down that tree. I’m never going to manage a beanstalk.”

His voice fractured on the last word and he turned away.

Jack wrapped his arms around him from behind. He couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of leaving Ianto again, but he knew the Welshman was right on this. There was no way Ianto would manage the climb with his injuries. He hadn’t intended on leaving without Ianto or even before the morning, but he doubted that Ianto would welcome him staying overnight given what had happened before.

Ianto brushed him away, climbing to his feet and taking a few steps. As Jack watched, his shoulders shook and he brought a hand to his face, scrubbing it furiously across his eyes. Jack sighed; there was nothing he could say to make this any better. He rose to his feet and approached Ianto from behind.

“I’ll walk you back to your room before I leave,” he offered, wanting to spend as much time as he could with Ianto.

Ianto whirled around, eyes wide and his mouth agape. Jack leant forward, intent on kissing away the look of surprise, unsure what had put it there in the first place. He stopped when a hand was placed firmly on his chest and glanced up. Ianto’s lips were drawn into a frown and irritation sparked in his eyes.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” he said firmly. “It’s dark and...” he paused and there was a flicker of uncertainty his eyes. “I don’t want you to fall because you can’t see where you’re going. I’m relying on you to come back for me.”

Jack took hold of Ianto’s hand, intertwining their fingers and stealing a chaste kiss. “And I will. I just didn’t think you’d want me to stay overnight.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” he said, looping his arm around Jack’s waist. “Come on; let’s go.”

Jack smiled, ducking free of Ianto’s arm to grab the bag and swing it over his shoulder once again. He returned to Ianto’s side and slid a supporting arm around his waist. This time Ianto did not flinch away, accepting the support willingly, and they began to make their way slowly back to the castle.

 

The walk back took longer than Jack had anticipated. It wasn’t entirely due to Ianto’s limp; neither man wanted the night to end and their speed reflected that. There were no words as they walked, Ianto’s breath came in heavy gasps and Jack knew that conversation would be too great a strain for him. Even when they reached the tree, Ianto’s grip did not waver. He clung to Jack, merely glancing up to the windowsill then looking down again, shoulders slumping as he shrank in on himself.

“I think I’m going to need your help,” he admitted.

Jack nodded, squeezing Ianto to his side before leaving him to climb up the trunk of the tree. He turned, locking his arm around a branch, and leant down, holding his hand out towards Ianto. He let the Welshman take his hand and use it to pull himself up to Jack’s level. Like this, they continued up the tree, Jack lending his strength where it was necessary.

Despite his weakness, Ianto still pressed Jack behind him when they reached the edge of the windowsill.

“Just wait,” he murmured, pushing Jack’s hands away when he reached to steady him again. “I need to make sure that it’s safe for you.”

He staggered forward, leaning heavily against the window frame as he glanced around the kitchen. After a moment or two he turned back to Jack and beckoned him closer. Jack rushed to his side, sliding his arm around Ianto’s waist immediately. Ianto sagged against him gratefully. He didn’t even offer a hint of protest as Jack led the way across the windowsill and the cupboards. It was only when they reached the edge did he make a whimper of distress. Jack glanced down at the floor, knowing how jarring the landing would be on Ianto’s injured leg.

He lowered himself onto the counter, took hold of the rope that lay there and slid down to the floor. Taking a step back he extended his arms towards Ianto having every intention of slowing his descent. He almost withdrew them as he saw the grimace on Ianto’s face but the frown faded as soon as he was no longer standing.

Jack met Ianto’s eyes and something passed between them. Ianto, Jack realised, trusted him to not let him fall. He nodded his head once, extended his arms again and Ianto slid down the rope. Jack raised his arms higher and, grasping Ianto’s hips, used his own strength to slow his fall. He pulled the Welshman down and into his arms, cradling him against his chest as his feet touched the floor.

“Thank you,” Ianto murmured, resting his head briefly on Jack’s shoulder. He tilted his head and brushed his lips over the juncture between neck and shoulder. The landing still jarred, if the pained expression on Ianto’s face was anything to go by, but Jack knew that it had been muted.

“Are you going to be alright?” he asked as Ianto stepped back, not yet relinquishing his grip on Jack’s shoulders.

Ianto nodded, managing a faint smile. “I will,” he answered. “It’s already better than it was and it’s only this bad now because I’m tired.”

As if to prove his point he dropped his arms and began to limp unsupported across the kitchen towards the cupboard which served as his room. Jack sighed and hurried towards him, slipping an arm around his waist as he reached his side. “Ok,” he muttered. “You don’t need to make it worse by trying to prove anything. Not to me.”

Ianto smiled, and rolled his eyes. “Maybe not to you – but I have to prove to myself that I deserve you.”

He removed Jack’s arm and once again began to limp across the floor. Jack hung back, unhappy with Ianto’s insistence on going alone but unable to do anything about it. Ianto’s movement was slow and pained gasps were slipping from his mouth with every few steps. Jack hurried to catch up, keeping to Ianto’s side, close enough that he could reach for him if necessary.

Once at the cupboard, Ianto pulled the door open and hauling himself up and inside with his arms. Jack was quick to follow, dropping the bag back on the floor behind the door. The room looked exactly the same as it had done the last time he had seen it, even down to the sheets on the bed. Ianto lit the small oil lamp on the table and the room was filled with a warm glow, the bright orange light casting shadows on the wall. He strode towards the table, pulling the chair from underneath it and guiding Ianto to sit down.

Jack knelt before him, fingers working at his shoelaces, untying them and slipping the battered boots from his feet. He tucked them under the table, peeling off a pair of much-darned socks and stuffing them inside the boots. He then turned his attention to Ianto’s shirt, unbuttoning it before sliding it from his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the fine hair that covered Ianto’s chest. He had imagined that Ianto would be hairless – but he had been right in imagining that Ianto’s form fitting clothing hid a firm body. He was a little too thin, if Jack was entirely honest, but that was hardly Ianto’s doing and nothing a few home cooked meals wouldn’t fix. He climbed to his feet. Ianto attempted to follow but Jack shook his head.

“No, stay there,” he urged.

He circled around Ianto until he stood behind him then dropped his hands onto his shoulders. Pressing his thumbs into his flesh he drew them in a tight circle, working out the knots that had Ianto so tense. Slowly, Ianto’s entire body began to relax, and Jack smiled to hear the soft gasps and groans of pleasure that he was making. He couldn’t help but wonder if Ianto was as vocal when intimate. If he was, Jack knew that he would take great pleasure in drawing them out.

“How do you feel now?” Jack asked, some moments later, letting his hands still. He leant forward, placing a kiss to his head. Ianto inclined his head around, and then rose to his feet, taking hold of Jack’s hand and tugging him around the chair until he stood before him.

He leant forward, pressing a kiss to Jack, his free hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “Much better, thanks to you,” he murmured against his mouth. “Jack, I can’t offer much tonight but... will you just hold me?”

Jack tilted his head, resting his forehead against Ianto’s. “I wasn’t intending on anything else,” he replied. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of Ianto’s breath ghosting over his lips before adding, “I was hoping you would allow it.”

Ianto scoffed again, stepping back and sinking back onto the chair as he removed his trousers. He collected his clothing and piled it neatly on the chair before stepping up to his mattress. He pulled back the blankets and lay down, patting the space beside him. Jack hurriedly stripped himself of clothing, dropping his shirt where he stood and kicking his trousers across the room.

“I hope you aren’t that messy all the time,” Ianto muttered, raising his eyebrows as he took in the scattered clothing.

Jack laughed. “Only when I have a gorgeous man waiting for me in bed.” He flicked a glance around the room, noting how everything was neat and orderly. Then he looked back towards his clothing. “Do you want me to..?”

He bent to pick up his shirt, folding it neatly and hanging it over the back of the chair.

“Jack,” Ianto sighed. “Leave it. It isn’t important right now.” He patted the bed beside him. “Turn the lamp off and get over here.”

Jack turned the valve, shrouding the room in darkness. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the dark before picking his way towards the mattress. Ianto’s hand caught his wrist, guiding him closer and down until he could crawl into the bed beside him. Ianto pulled the covers over them then rolled onto his side, facing away from Jack. It only took a moment of deliberation for Jack to shuffle closer, spooning behind Ianto, his chest pressed to Ianto’s back. Dropping his head forward, Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto’s shoulder and buried his face there. This was what he had always dreamt of having: someone to fall asleep beside, to hold and to care for. He knew he had found that in Ianto, but still he wondered when it would end. For surely someone as good and kind as Ianto would want nothing to do with a... murderer.

The word echoed through Jack’s mind and he had to repress a flinch. He was too close to Ianto for it to go unnoticed. The last thing he needed now was for his distress to be noted. It was Ianto who needed comfort and not he, and Jack was determined to offer it.

“Goodnight, Ianto,” he murmured into the darkness. There was no response, for Ianto was already fast asleep, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Jack’s hand. Jack smiled to himself, running his hand down Ianto’s chest and closing his eyes to let sleep carry him away.


	4. Chapter 4

Lips brushed against Jack’s skin, kissing a line up along his jawline to his lips. They were soft and familiar and he lay still for a moment, waiting until they vanished, as dreams were wont to do. Gradually, he became aware of the lumpy mattress beneath him – not his own – and cracked an eye open to find Ianto crouched beside him, their lips only an inch apart.

“Good morning, Jack,” Ianto said. “It’s good to see you awake at last.”

Jack lifted his head and closed the distance between them, meeting Ianto in a languorous kiss. His lips parted and Ianto’s tongue slipped inside to stroke and twine around his own. Jack propped himself up on an elbow, sliding the other hand up Ianto’s back to tangle in his hair.

“Morning,” he murmured when he pulled back. “I can’t imagine a better way to wake up.”

Ianto flushed red, wiggling out of Jack’s grasp and straightening up. He smoothed down his shirt and pants and cleared his throat, gesturing to the table on which had been laid the remains of their meal the previous night.

“Get dressed so we can have breakfast. I want you gone by the time my Master wakes up.” Ianto shot a nervous glance at the cupboard door as if expecting it to swing open at any moment. He leant against the table, eyes wide, knuckles turning white as he clutched at the edge of it. “I’m sorry,” he turned his head back towards Jack. “That was impolite of me – I only meant that...”

“I know,” Jack scrambled to his feet and hurried the short distance to stand behind him. He slid his hands around Ianto’s waist and hugged him to his chest. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I can look after myself.”

“Jack...” Ianto turned in Jack’s arms. “Please, take this seriously.”

“I am,” Jack replied, releasing Ianto and beginning to hunt for his clothes. He sat on the edge of the mattress to pull on his trousers “And I promise I won’t let him see me.” Ianto let out a soft sigh of relief, and Jack paused in buttoning up his shirt to look at him. “I’m coming back, though. How long do you think you’ll need for your leg to recover?”

“Five days, maybe six,” Ianto replied.

Jack’s head snapped up. Ianto had spoken with a certainty that could only come from experience. Jack didn’t want to think about how many times Ianto had been abused and injured, but it was clear that this was not a one-off. He narrowed his eyes, wishing that there was something he could do to punish the giant for Ianto’s mistreatment.

“I’ll be back for you in four,” he said, snapping his braces into place, wincing as they sting in his shoulders. He pulled on his boots, lacing them before rising to his feet. “I’m not leaving you here any longer than I need to.”

Ianto smiled, flicking his gaze up and down Jack’s body. His eyes widened suddenly and his smile broadened.

“Wait there,” he said, hurrying over to the large chest that stood in one corner. He pulled it open, dropping down to his knees as he rummaged inside. “There’s something I want you to have,” he said, voice muffled by the chest. “I made it for a rich man before I was brought here. It was the most expensive item I had made – it still is – and I think it’s one of the best. The man never returned, though – Father blamed me for that, too. I don’t know why I kept it; I suppose I thought I’d be able to sell it when I had my own shop.”

He stepped back, turning and Jack’s mouth fell open.

The greatcoat was the most perfect piece of tailoring he had ever seen. It was made of a thick blue cloth, double breasted with large brass buttons down each side and epaulettes on the shoulders. Jack stepped closer, reaching out to run his fingers down the collar.

“Here,” Ianto said, holding the coat open. Jack turned, letting Ianto slide it onto his shoulders. It fit as if it had been made for him. He took a few steps forward, relishing the feel of it swishing around his ankles and then spun back to face Ianto.

He had to smile at Ianto’s expression. The young man was staring at him openly, his mouth slightly agape, eyes sparkling with undisguised lust. “Well,” he asked. “What do you think?”

“You look quite the dashing hero,” Ianto said, lifting his eyes to meet Jack’s. “I thought it would fit you, but I never imagined it would look that good.”

Jack looked down at himself. It was hard to judge without a mirror but he suspected that Ianto was right: he did look fantastic. “It’s beautiful, Ianto,” he breathed. “But what about the cost? You could make a small fortune by selling this.”

He had no idea how much the coat was worth but he suspected it was no small amount. It would be unfair to accept such a gift, depriving Ianto of any chance to regain the cost. He reached up to remove the coat.

“I couldn’t sell it now,” Ianto argued. He placed his hands on Jack’s arms, peeling them away from the coat. “I couldn’t bear to see anyone but you in it. Stop being so noble, Jack, I know you like it.”

“I do, but...” Jack replied. His argument died on his lips when he saw Ianto’s expression, it was one he was never going to win. He wasn’t even sure he could have argued against accepting the gift. Ianto was right, he did like the coat and he didn’t want anyone else to wear it.

“I love it, Ianto,” he said. “Thank you.” He smirked, raising his eyebrow and taking a step closer to Ianto. “Does it really make me look dashing?”

Ianto nodded, pressing himself up against Jack, tilting his head towards his ear. “Very dashing,” he murmured, “I can’t imagine anyone wearing it half as well.”

Outside in the kitchen a door slammed open and heavy footsteps echoed through the room. Ianto started back, holding up a hand in a gesture for Jack to stay put, and hobbled back towards the cupboard door.

“Ianto!”

The ground shook with the volume of the shout, Jack grabbed hold of the chair to stop it from falling and himself from hurtling towards Ianto in an attempt to stop him leaving the cupboard He waited until Ianto had climbed out from the cupboard and pushed the door shut behind him before racing to watch through the gap below the hinges.

Like before, he watched Ianto clamber onto the table top. The giant was seated by the table, drumming his fingers in a repetitive rhythm. Before him was a large, plump hen that strode around the table, pecking at the wood. It was not of the same giant proportions as everything else in this world, suggesting to Jack that it was a creature of his own world. It certainly didn’t appear to be anything remarkable and Jack couldn’t help but wonder why the giant had brought it here.

“Where have you been, Ianto?” the giant asked, tilting his head to one side, his voice a mockery of concern. “Is your leg still hurting you?”

He jabbed out at Ianto’s leg with a finger, sending him crashing down on one knee, a pained cry ripped from his throat.

Jack’s hands clenched into fists at his side as he watched Ianto pick himself up. He wanted nothing more than to march out there and prove himself the hero that Ianto had named him. But a promise had been made and Jack would not break it no matter how difficult it became to stay put.

“Go and get some grain for my hen, I’m in the mood for eggs for breakfast,” the giant snapped. After picking himself up, Ianto limped as quickly as he could to the edge of the table and lowered himself over the edge. Jack watched him hobble across the kitchen, disappearing into the larder before turning his attention back to the giant, watching him drum his fingers on the table in the same steady tattoo. If one ignored his size, he didn’t seem all that threatening. He was slim and his features were pleasant enough – but then one saw his eyes and the twin sparks of madness and intellect that danced behind them. The giant’s size leant him physical strength, but it was his mental ability that Jack feared the most.

Quiet footsteps heralded Ianto’s return. He limped back towards the table, a small bag gripped in his hand, and began to climb back up towards his master. When he reached the top he rose unsteadily to his feet and reached into the bag, scattering fine grains of corn across the surface.

“And where are my eggs?” the giant said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Did I not say I wanted eggs for breakfast?”

Jack saw Ianto sag, his expression contorting in despair.

“I thought that you meant...” he began.

“Oh, do tell me what you thought I meant?” the giant sneered, resting his chin on clasped hands. “You have few talents, Ianto, and I never believed mind-reading to be one of them. Why don’t you surprise me?”

Ianto’s head slumped further forward, as if he were trying to curl in on himself where he stood. “I am sorry, Master. I thought wrong. I shall fetch your breakfast immediately.”

He returned to the edge of the table and began to lower himself down once more. Jack raged silently, his knuckles fast turning white, jaw clenched together to hold back the torrent of curse words that threatened to spill out. His orders had been meant to confuse Ianto. The bastard knew how much pain Ianto was in and was deliberately making it worse.

The drumming began again, then the giant’s voice echoed around the kitchen. “Lay me an egg.”

Jack frowned, glancing back towards the table. For a moment he was certain that he had heard wrong, for chickens did not lay on command. As he watched, however, the hen stopped pecking at the grain, let out a squawk and promptly laid an egg. The giant picked up the egg between forefinger and thumb, holding it up to his eye. It glinted in the sunlight and Jack let out a strangled gasp. The egg was solid gold.

He closed his eyes and began to count, convinced by the time he reached ten the egg would be white or brown, the gold being no more than a trick of his eyes. He was wrong; when he opened his eyes again the egg was still resolutely gold. Jack sighed, he had promised Ianto that he was not here for riches – and he hadn’t lied – but the hen was almost too tempting to pass up. It was a supply of gold that would last years, and meant that he and his mother would never have to go hungry again. It would mean breaking his word but somehow he didn’t think that Ianto would mind him taking the hen. It wasn’t simply a bag of gold or jewels but a living creature that would be happier free to roam with its own kind.

He watched Ianto appear in view again, carrying a large platter with an assortment of hard boiled and fried eggs. Once again, he placed this on the slab of wood by the table and hoisted it up before scrambling after it.

“Master, fifteen eggs, prepared just the way you like them,” he said as the appeared on the table, dragging the plate before the giant. He bowed, backing away and standing quietly beside the fruit bowl in the centre of the table.

“Make yourself useful and get rid of this grain,” the giant said, giving Ianto the briefest of glances.

Ianto stumbled over to the scattered grain and dropped to his knees. Using his hands he began to scrape it into a pile. Jack winced as he glanced around the spotless cupboard that was Ianto’s home. He suspected that Ianto would have to be in a great deal of pain to perform a task to anything less than perfection. He clearly couldn’t face the climb from floor to table again, not even to fetch the broom. Jack turned away, looking at the breakfast spread out over the small table – it would go uneaten now. He doubted that Ianto would be allowed a moment alone. He walked back to the table and began to wrap the food up, placing it back in the cloth sack. It wouldn’t be fair to eat without Ianto, especially when he knew how restricted the Welshman’s diet was compared to his own.

Jack tied a knot in the neck of the bag and placed it under the table before retreating back to the door. He was just in time to see the giant push his chair back and rise to his feet, his plate completely empty. For a moment, Jack wondered how he had finished so quickly but then he realised that each egg was a mouthful of food to the giant.

He waited until the door had swung shut before pushing open the door and squeezing out into the kitchen. Ianto glanced up as he landed on the tiles, the tension leaving his shoulders as spotted Jack.

I thought for a minute he was coming back,” he said.

Jack climbed up onto the table and came to a halt before Ianto. “No,” he answered, holding out a hand to Ianto. “Just me. Are you alright?”

Ianto grabbed Jack’s hand and hauled himself to his feet. “I’m fine,” he replied. Placing his hand in the small of Ianto’s back he began to steer him towards the table’s edge. “But you won’t be if he finds you here. You have to leave – now.”

Jack faltered, turning back to Ianto. “I don’t want to leave you,” he protested. “Are you sure you can’t...”

He knew the answer to his own question. There was no way that Ianto would be able to climb the beanstalk – not now. It was too far, and they would have to move too quickly if they were to avoid detection. Jack dreaded to think what would happen if the giant noticed Ianto’s absence and came after them.

“I won’t risk it,” Ianto replied, cupping Jack’s face in his hand and brushing his thumb across his cheek. “I won’t risk you.” He pulled away, retreating to where the hen was pecking at the pile of grain. He crouched down behind her and picked her up under one arm.

“Her name is Myfanwy,” he explained. “She’s perfectly friendly, to those who don’t mistreat her, at least. I want you to take her.”

He held her out towards Jack, pressing her into his arms. Jack looked down at the hen and she twisted her head around to regard him. “Ianto, if I take her I know I’ll be getting you into trouble again.”

He couldn’t deny that he had already considered taking her and he still believed that the hen –Myfanwy – would be happier with him but he would be unable to stand the thought of Ianto being further injured because of him.

“I’ll say she escaped.” Ianto shrugged. “That I turned my back for a few minutes and she disappeared. I couldn’t bear to leave her here; he would barely feed her. At least I know you would take care of her.” He took a step away, not meeting Jack’s eyes as he spoke. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Don’t worry about me; he can’t do anything worse than what he has already.”

That wasn’t what Jack wanted to hear. He tucked Myfanwy under one arm and leant forward to pull Ianto into a tight, one-armed embrace. He turned his head, pressing a kiss into the soft hair just above his ear. “Stay safe for me, Ianto,” he murmured, “I don’t want to come back and find you...”

He broke off, unable to even consider that possibility.

Ianto dropped his head, burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. Jack simply held him closer, running a hand up and down his back as he felt the first tears slide down his neck.

“I am coming back,” he promised. “Have your bags packed and ready for me.”

Ianto pulled back, dashing a hand across his eyes to wipe away the tears and smiling faintly. “I know you are,” he replied. “It’s just... I never realised how lonely I was until I had you to miss.”

He blinked furiously and turned away, and Jack felt his own eyes burn in sympathy and understanding. He had always craved companionship but never so much as he had done in the last week. He had forgotten what it was he was missing until he had met Ianto and the reminder had reawakened the loneliness that he had bottled up within.

Jack stepped closer to Ianto, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him around to face him. He leant forward and kissed Ianto, and although it was no more than a chaste goodbye it lacked none of the passion of their previous kisses.

“I should leave,” Jack murmured as he pulled back, “Or I never will.” He released his grip on Ianto and stepped towards the edge of the table. He shook his head when Ianto made to follow, holding up a hand to stop him. “Stay here, I can see myself out.”

He leant over the edge of the table to lower Myfanwy onto the chair before scrambling down himself. Climbing the cupboards was much harder carrying the hen but Jack managed to pull himself up onto the counter. He turned back, raising a hand to Ianto.

“I’ll see you in four days.”

Ianto nodded. “Look after yourself, Jack.”

Jack turned, heading in the direction of the windowsill. He tucked Myfanwy more securely under one arm as he stepped up onto the sill.

“By the way,” Ianto called after him. Jack paused, turning back and raising an eyebrow in question. Ianto lips quivered into some semblance of a smile. “You really do look good in that coat.”

 

Jack landed at the bottom of the beanstalk with a thud. Immediately he began to untie the bundle he had tied to his belt. He had realised at the top of the stalk that he would be unable to climb down carrying Myfanwy. It had taken minutes to fashion a bundle from his shirt, and to his surprise, even less time to coax the hen inside. It was as if she had known what he intended and, while Jack would have been loath to credit a hen with that amount of intelligence, he had already seen that Myfanwy was no ordinary hen.

He untied the bundle and lifted the hen up, carrying her into the yard and releasing her in the fenced off area around the chicken coop. Myfanwy pecked at the ground then strutted across the yard to join the other hens.

Jack leant against the fence and sighed, running a hand over his face. He felt a little guilty to be back here when Ianto was still imprisoned, taking the punishment for Jack’s theft.

“Jack, are you alright?”

Jack straightened up and turned as he heard his mother approach. He leant back against the fence, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, Mother.”

She looked him up and down, her forehead furrowing as she frowned. “Where did you get that coat?” she asked, smoothing out his shoulders and studying the seams with a critical eye. “It’s very well made. And a perfect fit.”

Jack knew that he would have to tell her about Ianto. She would ask him to chop the beanstalk down once again, and this time he would have to give her a good reason for why he could not. Besides, he couldn’t bring Ianto into their home without warning her first. But where to begin? His mother had always complained that he was still unattached, but Jack wasn’t certain she would welcome a romance this dangerous. Besides, how could he begin to describe Ianto?

“I’ll explain that later,” he brushed her hands away, wanting more time to plan what he would say. “I want to show you something.”

Jack vaulted the fence and crouched down beside Myfanwy.

“Lay me an egg,” he said, trying to remember if the giant had done anything else. When nothing happened immediately, he added, “Please?”

Myfanwy squawked and Jack grinned as she laid an egg as large as the previous one. He heard his mother’s gasp and turned back, holding the egg in the palm of his hand. Sunlight glinted off the golden shell. His mother’s eyes grew wider as she stared. Jack rose to his feet, walking back to the fence to hand the egg to his mother. He took the bag of grain from the fencepost.

“Good girl, Myfanwy,” he muttered as he scattered a handful of grain on the ground before her.

“Jack, this is solid gold.” His mother’s voice trembled, her face awash with delight. “I thought our troubles were truly over but this makes everything so much better.” She dropped the egg into her apron pocket. “I’ll make you some dinner and afterwards you can rid us of that beanstalk.”

Jack let his breath in one long rush. “I need to talk to you about that,” he said as he climbed the fence. He landed with a thud before his mother. “I can’t chop the beanstalk down, Mother. I won’t.”

She raised her eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “Jack, we have more than enough now. Why would you possibly want to go back?”

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, he had known that she wouldn’t want him to return but he had underestimated how opposed she would be to the idea. He gestured towards the cottage. “Can we discuss this inside?” he asked, striding towards the door without waiting for an answer. His mother harrumphed but he could hear her footsteps following behind him.

Jack stepped into the cottage, waiting for his mother to enter before pushing it shot. He sank down at the table, and gestured for his mother to sit. She took the chair opposite, folding her arms on the table. “Well?”

“There’s this man,” Jack explained, his gaze fixed on the table. “Ianto Jones. He’s kind, intelligent and just about the bravest man I’ve ever met – gorgeous too.” He finally lifted his gaze to meet his mother’s eyes. To his relief he saw no irritation or disbelief there, only understanding. “He’s a slave. His father sold him to settle a debt.”

He stopped, not wanting to say anything more. Ianto was intensely private and it was his story to tell. Jack knew what it felt like to be the subject of gossip – to have your history known by everyone you met – and though he knew that his mother would not speak of Ianto’s past, telling her would still seem a betrayal.

“The poor boy,” his mother murmured. “What sort of parent would do that to their child?” She raised her eyebrows as she regarded Jack. “I think I understand your obsession with that beanstalk now.”

Jack nodded, unsurprised by his mother’s intuition. “I want to help him escape,” he explained. “That’s why I went back – to see if I could convince him to come with me. And he wanted to – he would have done,” his voice rose in a crescendo and he thumped the table, remembering the look on Ianto’s face as he had left. “Damn it, he’d be here right now if it weren’t for his leg.”

She didn’t answer immediately, but after a momentary silence she ventured, “Is there any way of him climbing down?”

Jack glanced up, frowning in confusion. His eyes widened as he realised his mother had misunderstood Ianto’s injury, believing it to be a more permanent disability. “Oh, he’ll be able to,” he clarified, “As soon as his leg has healed.”

His mother reached across the table, closing her hand around his, preventing him from taking out his anger on the table once again. “Then when are you going back for him?”

Jack’s head jerked up, his mouth falling open as he stared at his mother.

“You aren’t going to try and stop me?” he stammered, wondering at this sudden change of heart. His mother had been adamant that there was no reason to keep the beanstalk only moments ago, and now she was happy for him to climb it once more. Perhaps not happy, Jack realised, as he caught her eye; perhaps simply resigned.

“I don’t believe I could stop you, Jack.” His mother sighed and shook her head. “You’re a fool for love – just like your father was.”

Jack smiled; he had heard the tales of his parents’ courtship many times, of his father’s many attempts to win his mother’s heart. To his dying day, Franklin Harkness would have done anything – no matter how foolish – to protect those he loved and the comparison made Jack’s heart swell with pride.

“Anyway,” his mother continued. “It’s about time you had some love in your life. I never did understand why you kept turning down the Cooper’s girl. I remember she was rather enamoured of you last summer. It could have been you she married instead of Rhys Williams.”

Jack groaned. Before she had become Mrs. Williams, Gwen Cooper had spent a summer dogging his footsteps, taking it upon herself to drag him to every social event she could. He had enjoyed her company, even if he found her to be a little overbearing, and her interest had at least been genuine to some extent.

“Gwen didn’t love me,” he explained. “She heard the rumours and fell in love with the idea that she could reform me.”

And that was the reason he hadn’t responded to her interest. He liked Gwen well enough; she had a good heart and a fierce strength, but her morality was black and white. Her attempts to mould Jack into someone he wasn’t were frustrating and Jack had never been more relieved when she had turned her attention to Rhys Williams.

His mother made a clucking noise, her expression making clear that she thought Gwen’s opinion was ridiculous. “I just want to see you happy, Jack. And if this Ianto makes you so, then I’ll not argue.”

“He does,” Jack confirmed. “He accepts me, he sees me as a dashing hero, which is a welcome change from what people round here believe of me.”

“Oh Jack,” his mother said, her forehead furrowing. “You haven’t told him, have you?”

Jack wrenched his hand away from his mother’s rising to his feet. “And why would I?”

He couldn’t bear to see Ianto’s expression cloud over in disgust; he didn’t want to hear the disdain in his voice or a refusal to let Jack anywhere near. He had suffered that from the people of Cardiff. He couldn’t bear to suffer it from Ianto too.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” he murmured, his shoulders sagging and the anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

His mother rose to her feet, circling the table to pull him into a tight embrace. “If he’s half as wonderful as you say then he can’t possibly hate you for what happened.” She pulled out of the embrace, holding Jack at arm’s length and meeting his gaze. “If he’s going to live with us, you need to tell him what happened, Jack – the truth. You don’t want him hearing the rumours and gossip, or not understanding what they mean when people ask him how he can love a murderer – their words, Jack, not mine – and you can’t pretend he won’t find out. Let it be on your terms and not theirs.”

Jack knew that she was right. It would be impossible to prevent Ianto finding out about his past once he brought him here. He would have to confess and hope that Ianto didn’t reject him outright. He didn’t think Ianto would be able to overlook murder as easily as he had theft, but surely even assistance from a killer was better than a lifetime of servitude?

He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’ll tell him,” he assured her, as much for his sake as for his mother’s. “When I go back for him, I’ll tell him then.”

His mother smiled, standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck to press a kiss to his cheek. “And when will that be?”

“I promised him I’d return in four days,” Jack replied. It was going to be a long four days. He was already itching to climb the beanstalk again, worried for Ianto’s safety and missing his company.

“Good,” his mother nodded, “Because we’ve got a lot to do before he gets here. The house needs tidying and you’ll need to go to market and buy him some clothes – I presume it was he who gave you the coat?” Jack nodded, and without giving him time to elaborate, his mother surged on. “That means he likes good quality clothing. No matter, we’re no longer short of money. And we’ll need somewhere bigger to live, this house is barely large enough for the two of us – imagine what it would be like with another grown man living here.”

Jack smiled as she continued with her list of tasks. He was certain that by the time his mother was finished he wouldn’t have the time to miss Ianto – and that was probably her intention. Perhaps the next four days wouldn’t be as hard as he had anticipated.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack woke at dawn on the fourth day, the sunlight streaming through the chink in his curtains pulling him from dreams of Ianto. No amount of work had been able to prevent him from missing the Welshman, and night time had been the worst. Alone in his bed, tormented with dreams, Jack had been forced to rely on sheer willpower alone to prevent himself climbing the beanstalk. Last night had been unbearable, anticipation doubling every minute and adding a frenzied edge to his dreams. He had wanted it to be morning more than anything, had wanted to fly up the beanstalk to Ianto’s side.

Now it was morning and Jack wished that it wasn’t.

He wasn’t regretting his promise to return for Ianto, nor was he dreading the life changes that would be inevitable now; he was simply terrified of what he would find when he reached the top of the beanstalk. Jack was not a fool, no matter what people chose to believe, and he knew that four days was long enough for the giant to discover the hen’s disappearance and punish Ianto. Jack didn’t want to envisage the many injuries or humiliations the giant could have subjected Ianto to, but they swam in his mind nonetheless.

He clambered out of bed and splashed some water on his face before getting dressed. When he stepped out into the kitchen he wasn’t at all surprised to find his mother waiting for him. Before he could even wish her a good morning, she pointed a wooden spoon at the table.

“Sit,” she said. “And I want no arguments. You’re going nowhere until you’ve had some breakfast.”

Jack frowned and glanced out of the window at the beanstalk. He didn’t want to keep Ianto waiting any longer than he had to. “Mother...” he protested, “I don’t have time.”

“Of course you have time,” his mother snapped, spooning some of the porridge into a bowl and placing it on the table. “There’s always time for breakfast and I will not have you climbing that thing with an empty stomach.”

Loath as he was to admit it, Jack knew she was right. Climbing the beanstalk was tiring and he would have no time to rest once he reached the top. He didn't want to miss any opportunity to get Ianto. He sank down onto the bench, picked up his spoon and began to eat.

His mother hovered in his peripheral vision as he ate, and he knew she wanted to ask him to stay. It was a question she would never voice; she knew and supported his reasons for going, but Jack knew that she also wished it hadn’t fallen to him to help Ianto. And after everything she had lost he could hardly blame her. He finished the last of his porridge and rose to his feet.

“I don’t know if I’ll be back tonight,” he said, buckling on his sword belt and sheathing his Father’s sword. “I want to be but don’t worry if I’m not.”

He pulled his coat on before approaching her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in response, catching hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze. She said no more, just turned away to collect the bowl and spoon from the table. Jack knew that she would say nothing else and he would not push her to. If she wanted to treat this as if he was simply walking into Cardiff then he would allow her to.

He pushed open the door and slipped into the garden. Seeing the beanstalk brought all his worries and excitement back in a rush. Quashing the worries – the giant relied on Ianto too much to kill or seriously injure him – Jack allowed the excitement to take hold. He pulled himself up onto the stalk and began to climb towards the clouds and towards Ianto.

 

Jack's head burst through the layer of clouds. He glanced around before pulling himself up and out of the hole. A thick mist clouded the land and Jack could barely see inches before him. With his hands stretched before him he began to pick his way around the rose bush.

It was fortunate that the castle was so large; its blurred shape was visible even through the fog. Jack began to head towards it, stumbling over pebbles and fallen branches. It seemed to take him forever to reach the castle gates, and even longer to cross the garden to stand beneath the tree.

No sound came from the kitchen window, and it was with trembling hands that Jack began to climb. It would be his fault if anything had happened to Ianto. Jack silently cursed himself for stealing the hen, especially when the result of Ianto's first punishment was still fresh in his mind. He reached for the next branch and began to pull himself up, pushing his churning stomach to the back of his mind.

The thud of a door against a wall startled Jack and his hand slipped from the branch, sending him sliding back down the tree. He reached blindly and grabbed at the tree, burying his fingers in thick moss. His feet scrabbled for purchase, settling into a narrow groove. It was by no means a safe position, Jack could already feel the moss begin to give, but it would serve him until he regained his equilibrium.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, running his tongue over the cut in his lip. Biting his lip had seemed preferable to crying out and attracting the giant's attention. Considering what could have happened, Jack thought himself lucky that the sum of his injuries was a cut lip and what felt like grazing across his belly.

The moss shifted beneath his fingers, beginning to crumble in places. Jack knew that it would give way at any moment; he reached for the branch above his head, grabbing it with one hand, and then the other before pulling himself up. The branch was thick with leaves and protruded out towards the kitchen. It was the one Jack used to reach the windowsill, but he saw now that it also offered the ideal vantage point. Seated in the fork near the far end, he would be shrouded by greenery and able to watch Ianto without being seen by the giant.

He crept along the branch, hardly daring to breathe as he edged away from the trunk of the tree. The branch felt very exposed, as if the giant would see him if he chanced to look out of the window, and Jack was glad when he was once more completely obscured by foliage, cradled between the two forking branches. He plucked one of the leaves from its stem, making a gap large enough for him to see through the open window

Ianto was stood by the stove, preparing dinner, or perhaps a late breakfast, for the giant. The smell of bacon and egg was enough to make Jack grateful to his mother for her insistence that he ate breakfast. The giant was there too, a large book propped open in front of him. Satisfied that he was already occupied, Jack diverted his attention back to Ianto. The bruising on his face had faded now and he was no longer limping. Jack grinned as his once over revealed no sign of further injuries and settled back against the tree to wait for the giant to leave the room.   
It didn’t take long for Ianto to finish the meal and transport it across to the table. He set the plate of bacon, and eggs before the giant with a teapot and cup to his right. The giant set aside the book and lifted the lid of the teapot, inhaling deeply.

“I do believe that tea is one of the most refreshing aromas known to man,” the giant said without looking up, his tone soft and quiet. Jack crept towards the gap in the leaves his breath caught in his throat, watching Ianto take a step back away from the giant. “You agree, don’t you, Ianto?”

Jack flinched as the giant looked up. He was smiling but his eyes were alight with malice. Jack’s fingers curled around a twig as he fought urges to run - although in which direction he was not certain.

Ianto took another step backwards. “I do, master. There is nothing that beats it.”

Despite the confident tone, his voice shook, he shuffled back further, his shoulders tense but for a slight tremble.

The giant’s smile widened. “Then perhaps you can explain why this kitchen reeks of coffee if you like tea so much.”

He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them, tilting his head to one side as he regarded Ianto. Ianto seemed to shrink under his gaze; he dropped his head forward and ran a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck.

“Tell him the truth,” Jack whispered, willing Ianto to confess. The giant would only become more vigilant if he knew there had been an intruder in his castle and that would make escaping with Ianto difficult. But anything but the truth would only lead to punishment, and Jack had no desire to see Ianto hurt - whatever the cost.

Ianto raised his head, meeting the giant’s eyes and shrugged. “Then you must be imagining things,” he said. Jack could tell he was struggling to make his tone mesh with his words; there was a waver beneath the steely veneer of his tone. “Why would there be coffee here? I can’t exactly go to the shops and buy some.”

He scrambled backwards as the giant reached for him, feet tangling beneath him and sending him sprawling backwards across the table.

The giant rose to his feet, snatching up the plate and flinging it across the room. Food scattered everywhere even before the plate shattered against the wall. Ianto flinched, lifting his hands to shield his face from the rebounding shards. Jack ducked back behind the branch as the teacup smashed against the window frame, the teapot following soon after. Jack looked up cautiously, but the giant seemed to have tired of his destruction. Jack regarded the man with a wary eye; his actions had been terrifying on their own but the giant’s expression had been more so. Although driven by anger, his actions had been calculated. His intent was to frighten Ianto, and to punish him by forcing more work upon him.

The giant grinned and the lack of warmth in it sending chills down Jack’s spine. “You are a naughty boy, Ianto, and insolence like yours must be punished.”

Jack flinched, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. This was his fault; he had been trying so hard to win Ianto’s affection that he had never thought that he might get into trouble for having the coffee. He should have waited and presented him with the coffee when they were both home.

There was no cry of pain, only the sound of footsteps as the giant strode across the room. He crouched beside the hearth and began to feed coal into the fire, shifting the older ones to one side with a poker. Ianto got to his knees, eyes fixed on the fire.

“What are you going to do?” he croaked, real fear seeping into every syllable. He shuffled backwards towards the far side of the table, putting as much distance between himself and the roaring fire as he could.

The giant whirled around, twirling the heated poker in his hand. He stepped up to the table, extending his arm until the tip was inches from Ianto’s face. The Welshman shrunk back. “Please,” he whimpered, a sob bursting from his throat. “Please, don’t.”

Jack blinked back hot tears, silently railing against his own inability to help. Ianto’s desperate pleas had shattered his resolve. He buried his face in his arm, unable to watch any longer. Moments passed, and once again the scream he had expected did not come, only sobs and laughter. Cautiously, Jack peered out of the gap in the leaves once again.

Ianto had curled up into a tight ball, his eyes warily watching the giant as he circled the table, occasionally jabbing the poker in Ianto’s direction. Eventually, the giant tired of his game and dropped the poker back into its stand.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face now, would we?” he taunted, circling the table again. “It’s about the only thing you’re good for, even if it still is very flawed.”

Jack hissed a curse, burying his hand in the leaves and crumbling them between his fingers. It was unsurprising that Ianto found it hard to accept Jack’s interest in him if this was all he heard. Jack intended on telling Ianto how handsome he was at the first opportunity.

“Are you ready to tell me the truth now?” the giant continued, coming to a halt before Ianto.

Ianto hunched in his shoulders and shook his head.

“I’m not telling you anything,” he spat. He hugged his knees closer to his chest, refusing to even look up and meet the giant’s gaze.

Wordlessly, the giant turned and crouched down, yanking open a cupboard door. The strangled gasp from Ianto reached Jack and he leant forward to confirm his suspicions. It was Ianto’s room that was being ransacked. Sweeping his hand inside, the giant gathered up all of Ianto’s belongings, rising and dumping them on the table. Coffee beans scattered across the wood, bouncing off the table to roll around the kitchen. The giant tutted, shaking his head.

“I knew that you were hiding something from me,” he sneered. He picked up the table, now lacking one leg, and threw it towards the fireplace. It landed amongst the flames and immediately caught fire. "How many times must we speak of this, Ianto?" the giant sounded as if he were lecturing a small child. "You are to tell me of any intruders, not help them to steal from me."

He picked up the half empty coffee packet and hurled it into the fire. It was soon followed by the chair, the workbench and the tailors’ dummy.

Ianto flinched each time one of his possessions was swallowed by the flames. He appeared to be bearing it well, uttering not a word of protest, but Jack could tell that he was barely holding himself together.

The giant pulled one of the two chests from the pile and snapped the lid off before tipping it upside down. Clothing cascaded from the chest, scattering across the table. The giant paused to root through it before gathering it up and dropping them over the flames. This time Ianto moaned, his eyes widening. The giant turned to him

"There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing now," he sneered. "They're perfectly suitable. You can have some more when you learn your loyalty is to me - not some thief who didn't even take you with him."

Ianto's head jerked up. "He would have done," he snapped, "But I refused. - I would have only slowed him down."

The giant laughed maniacally, the sound reverberating around the kitchen. "And I suppose he promised he would come back for you?"

Ianto didn't answer; he didn't need to. His reaction spoke for him. His head hung forward, shoulders tensing imperceptibly. Jack sighed, itching to approach him and soothe away the aches and stresses. More than that, he wanted to attract Ianto's attention somehow, to show him that he had returned - that his master was wrong. There was no way he could, though, not without also exposing himself to the giant.

The giant shook his head, the grin still plastered across his face. "Why would he come back for you?" he asked. "Why would he come back at all? He has my gold, my hen - there's nothing else here for him. Especially not a plain-faced tailor's son without a penny to his name. He isn't coming back, certainly not for you!"

He gestured around the room, at the broken crockery and the spilled food.

"You're going to make my breakfast again and then you're going to clean this room until it sparkles." He looked down at the pile of Ianto’s belongings on the table. “I think I’ll sort through this while you’re working, make sure you aren’t hiding anything else from me. He tilted his head to one side as he regarded Ianto. “I’m doing you a kindness really; you humans get far too attached to material items.”

Ianto flinched as the giant picked up the mattress, giving it a quick shake. His eyes flickered over to the fire, where most of his worldly possessions were still smouldering. Jack gritted his teeth; surely the giant wouldn’t force Ianto to sleep on a cold, hard surface without even a blanket to cover him?

The giant set the mattress to one side, along with blankets and the oil lamp with its pitiful supply of fuel. The other chest was opened, and sifted through, and crockery was dropped onto the blankets. It was followed by a shaving kit and a bar of soap. Ianto glanced away, pushing himself to his feet and began to cross the table, his eyes slid towards the giant with every few steps.

“What’s this?”

The giant lifted a small leather bound book from the chest, holding it up to show to Ianto. The Welshman stumbled as he turned, barely catching himself in time. The giant opened the book and began to leaf through it.

“Ooh, you keep a diary – how quaint!” the Giant grinned at Ianto, who had stopped dead in the centre of the table, his eyes fixed on the book. The giant made a shooing gesture with his hand and Ianto hurried across the table, clambering down to the floor.

The giant was leafing through the book, occasionally shaking his head and tutting. “I never knew you felt that way about me, such terrible things you call me.”

He flipped over a few more pages, coming to a halt near the end.

“Now this is interesting, this entry is dated four days ago. He adopted a Welsh lilt, giving his voice a dreamy quality. “Jack came back today. He was just as handsome as I remembered and just as kind too. He said such lovely things to me and he brought me coffee too!”

Jack was sure the words had to be a mockery, twisting Ianto’s through and feelings – making out that he was a lovesick youngster. They sounded nothing like something Ianto would write. The next words, however, sounded much more real.

“I’d like to believe he’s all he says he is and that he could care about me because I think he’s someone I could very easily fall for.”

The giant chuckled and Jack flinched. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the sentiment, or that it wasn’t returned, but he would have preferred to hear those words from Ianto himself. Not like this.

“Is this him?” the giant turned the book so that Ianto – and Jack – could see. Jack could make out Ianto’s tidy hand and the faint pencil lines of a sketch, but little more. Ianto nodded, almost imperceptibly, and the giant smirked. “He is handsome, isn’t he?”

He snapped the book shut and threw it across the room into the fire. The flames grew, crackling louder as they fed on the new kindling. When the giant turned around his expression was dark, and Jack shrunk back away from the window. This was a man not to be underestimated.

“The same will happen to him if I ever find him here,” he hissed.

He grabbed the chest and hurled that into the fire too. He pointed towards the larder.

“Get on with your work,” he snapped, “Unless you want the rest to burn too.”

Jack settled back against the tree, watching Ianto hurry into the larder and out of his sight. As much as he wanted to rush into the kitchen and snatch Ianto from under the giant’s nose, he knew he could not. All he could do was watch and wait until the giant left.

 

Jack shifted on the branch, trying to make himself comfortable. He had been sitting in the same spot for hours now waiting for the giant to leave. It was long enough that his ass had grown numb and his legs ached from lack of use. The knots on the tree were beginning to dig into his back and he couldn’t find a position that didn’t cause discomfort to one part or another. He needed to get up and stretch his legs but he didn’t dare. He couldn’t risk being seen by the giant. That was not the main reason that he remained in the tree, however; Jack simply did not want to miss the moment the giant left the room.

Hours had passed and the giant was still to leave the kitchen. He had remained at the table, reading his books and pouring over old maps. Twice he sent Ianto to fetch items for him, and both times the Welshman had to make several trips to fetch the items. In the intervening time, Ianto had been cleaning the kitchen: collecting up shattered fragments of china and ruined food, mopping up puddles of spilled tea and wiping away grease stains. He had cooked for the giant too; a replacement luncheon, followed by a supper of steak, potatoes and veg. The last meal had confirmed to Jack how long he had been sitting there. The sun, still rendered invisible by the mist, had long set, and night was creeping in.

Jack shivered and wrapped his coat around him. There would be no hope of going home tonight. The mist had stolen his sight, and he doubted in his abilities to find the beanstalk.

The sound of the chair scraping against stone dragged Jack’s attention back to the kitchen. The giant had risen to his feet and was stretching. “I have to go out,” he said, “I will return at dawn; I expect my breakfast to be prepared on my return.”

Jack lurched to his feet, creeping to the edge of the branch. As soon as the giant left the kitchen, Ianto sank down onto the counter top. He leant heavily against the wall, running a hand across his face. His shoulders trembled and he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Jack wanted to go to him, to wrap his arms around him and kiss away his cares, remind him that in a few short hours they would be gone from the castle.

Instead he hung back, aware that the giant could have been bluffing and march back in the moment Jack set foot in the kitchen. He waited until he heard the door slam, footsteps crunching on the gravel path and, finally, the creak of the heavy iron gates opening and closing again. The giant was gone.

Jack wasted no time in hurrying back along the branch and clearing the gap between tree and windowsill. The kitchen was hushed. Ianto was still leaning against the wall, hunched over, arms wrapped around his chest like he was trying to hold himself together. Jack let himself drop onto the cupboard.

Ianto didn’t look up as he approached, and Jack doubted that he even realised he was no longer alone. He lowered himself down beside Ianto, reaching out to place a hand on Ianto’s arm. The Welshman raised his head to reveal red eyes. “Jack?” he murmured. “Where did you come from?”

Jack slid his arm around Ianto’s shoulders, shuffling closer and pulling Ianto against his side. “I’ve been here all afternoon, waiting for you to be alone.”

“You saw it all?” Ianto flushed red, and began to inch away. Jack tightened his grip, refusing to let him move. It wouldn’t do for Ianto to think he thought any less of him because of what he had seen. He didn’t; in fact his admiration had only risen.

“I don’t know how you’ve stayed strong,” he admitted. He pressed a kiss to Ianto’s temple. “And I am so sorry for putting you through all of that.”

Ianto shrugged, tilting his head up to face Jack. “I shouldn’t have antagonised him, but I was just so tired of being here and missing you so much and I just lashed out.”

Jack smiled, brushing his lips across Ianto’s. “I missed you too,” he murmured. “I was going to get you out of here today. Guess we’ll have to wait until morning now.”

He kissed Ianto again and when he pulled back Ianto chased his lips to capture them again. Tilting his head forward to rest their foreheads together, the Welshman reached up and cupped Jack’s cheek in his hand, stroking his thumb along the cheekbone.

“You’re here now; you came back. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re worth coming back for,” Jack replied. “I can’t understand why you’re still here; I know I’m not the first to find this place.”

It was the one thing that he wanted to know more than anything. He couldn’t understand how anyone could meet Ianto and not be completely captivated. But, more than that, he wanted to know what they had done to make him so untrusting. He wanted to help Ianto to heal, and he couldn’t do that if he didn’t know the whole story – or if he feared making their mistakes without knowing it.

Ianto tensed and pulled back, putting some distance between them. He made no effort to shrug off Jack’s arm, though, and a moment later leant down into his embrace once again, letting his head drop onto Jack’s shoulder. “You’re the third person I’ve seen since I was brought here, not including my Master of course.”

He stopped, staring absently towards the fire, his expression clouding over.

Jack shrugged his shoulder, wanting to tear Ianto from the memories that were haunting him. No matter how much he wanted to satisfy his curiosity, he wouldn’t probe; doing so would only cause Ianto further distress. He opened his mouth, about to tell Ianto that it didn’t matter, that they could change the subject, when Ianto spoke.

“Lisa was the first.” His voice was strained, as if he were making an effort to compose himself. “I had been here little over a month – still young, naïve, and still certain that I could escape. Lisa was unlike any woman I’d ever met before. She wore her hair like a man – she dressed like one too, in armour with a sword at her hip. I found her in the garden one evening. She’d stumbled over some roots and twisted her ankle and I took her in for the night – or several nights as it turned out. I fell in love with her, and she with me, and she swore she’d help me escape.”

Ianto broke off, his eyes darting back towards the fire. “He found her in his treasury, dragged her in here and asked me how long she’d been stealing from him. I begged him to let her go, and he... he dropped her into the fire. By the time I managed to get her out her armour had fused to her skin. I tried to help her, but her injuries were too great.”

Jack tightened his grip on Ianto as a sob burst from his lips. He felt physically sick. No wonder Ianto had reacted with such fear when threatened with the poker. He pressed a kiss into the Welshman’s hair, trying to offer him some little comfort.

“I gave up after that,” Ianto whispered. “Gave up on escaping, on finding love, of ever being happy again. Then Adam turned up and all that changed again. He was charming, and he told me that he’d take me with him. I knew he was cunning enough to evade my master and so I believed him. I helped him gather treasure, hiding it in the back of the larder until he was ready to leave. When I woke one night and found him gone, I went to look for him. He was on the windowsill, about to leave – without me. When I asked him why, he laughed in my face. I’ll never forget what he said to me.” He paused, and when he continued his voice was void of emotion. “‘Why would I take you? I’m bored of you following me around like a lost little puppy. I’ve got money now – I can have anyone I want, and I want beautiful and exciting. Not plain, boring and shit in bed. I can’t believe you thought I would want you. Why would anyone want you?’”

Jack hissed, pushing Ianto away from him and holding him at arm’s length. He tilted Ianto’s chin up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I want you,” he insisted. “You’re beautiful and fascinating, and I am taking you with me when I leave tomorrow. Don’t ever think anything else.”

Ianto’s lips flickered into a smile. “I don’t,” he admitted. “I know I should be wary of you but I don’t want to be. I trust you. I just...” He turned his head away, before glancing back to Jack through lowered eyelashes. “I don’t understand why someone like you doesn’t already have someone?”

There was nothing for it. He would have to tell Ianto the truth. Jack felt his whole world lurch as he staggered to his feet. He had known he would have to confess but he had wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. The rejection would come too soon, be too painful, and he had never wanted anything less. His stomach roiled and he took two steps away from Ianto, keeping his back to him. If he had to do this then he wouldn’t look; he wouldn’t watch the disgust materialize on Ianto’s face.

“Jack?”

There was concern in Ianto’s voice and Jack couldn’t stand it. He didn’t deserve that concern and Ianto would soon see that.

“You want to know why I have no one?” he asked, bitterness seeping into his voice. “It’s because no one will have me. I’m a murderer.”

He heard Ianto’s sharp intake of breath and prepared himself for an onslaught of insults and questions. They never came. Instead, inexplicably, a hand landed on his shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“I don’t believe that,” Ianto murmured. “You’re a good man, Jack Harkness. I don’t think you would ever hurt anyone unless you had a very good reason for doing so.”

Jack hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Ianto, but he knew that him finding out would be inevitable. It was better he to tell him the truth now, than to let him hear the lies the people of Cardiff believed.

He sighed, but stayed resolutely facing the opposite direction. “When I was fifteen I killed my father and my little brother.”

He fell silent, waiting for some reaction from Ianto but none came. Ianto was waiting to hear the full story not offering consolation or condemnation.

“I lived across the seas, in a little village called Boeshane. My parents were well liked and everyone adored Gray. He always had a smile on his face and was friendly to everyone he met, but he adored me. I used to complain about him following me everywhere but I never really meant it.”

He broke off, the whole world narrowing to Ianto’s hand rubbing up and down his arm. It was this that gave him the courage to continue. Ianto hadn’t rejected him thus far.

“The spring of that year was one of the wettest I can remember. There was a week where it barely stopped raining. There was so much that the river had swollen to twice its usual level. I’d been stuck inside three days by the time it finally stopped and I needed to get some air - there are only so many games of cards you can play. Boeshane lay on the edge of a forest and I decided to walk there, along the riverbank. I didn’t realise he had followed me, I thought he was back at home.”

He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes to block out the memories. To this day, Gray’s screams still rang in his ears.

“I swear, I only knew he was there when I heard him yell my name. He’d been hurrying to catch up and slipped on the embankment. I’d never seen him look so terrified – he was clinging on to a root but he couldn't pull himself up. I grabbed hold of his hand and tried to help him but he wouldn’t let go of the root, and every time he took a step up the slope he slid back down. I kept telling him, over and over, to let go of the root so I could pull him up but he wouldn’t and then it snapped. He slipped further and I let go of his hand.”

Jack blinked away the film of tears that clouded his vision. He knew it was too late, his cheeks were already damp, his eyes red. Somehow, though, Ianto was still behind him. The hand on his arm had stilled but hadn’t been removed. For whatever reason, Ianto still hadn’t rejected him. Jack felt hope flicker inside. He had told the worst part; perhaps Ianto would accept him, even knowing all of this.

“He was swept downstream,” he continued, “And I ran beside him for as long as I could, until he was too far away for me to see. I lost track of everything – of time, of distance, of the weather. I found him tangled in some branches on the edge of the forest and pulled him from the water. He’d never stood a chance, I think I knew that when he hit the water, but I had still hoped... I think I stayed out there all night with him, and when the men from my village came for us my father wasn’t with them. I asked them why and when they didn’t answer I knew something had happened to him, too. It turns out he’d gone out into the storm to search for us and been crushed by a falling tree.” His voice broke, and his head fell forward into his hand. “I should have stayed indoors. I killed them both.”

Ianto tightened his grip on his arm. “I don’t see how it was your fault.”

Jack shrugged the hand off, whirling around to face Ianto. “Weren’t you listening? I let go of his hand. All he wanted was for his big brother to save him and I failed him.”

Ianto stepped forward, crowding into Jack’s space and pulling him into a hug. “No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You didn’t make that root snap, or the bank muddy. You didn’t bring the storms. There was nothing more you could have done.”

Jack had always known that he couldn’t have done anything about the conditions that had caused the deaths of Gray and his father, but he knew he could – should – have noticed his brother’s presence sooner, or held on to his hand tighter. He was just as responsible as the weather conditions.

“I should have stopped him from following me,” Jack insisted, but he didn’t fight Ianto’s embrace. The hands rubbing circles on his back were soothing, and he knew that his words made sense. He couldn’t have prevented the disaster once it had begun but he felt certain that he could have stopped it from occurring if only he had been more vigilant.

Ianto tightened his grip. “He shouldn’t have snuck out after you, your parents should have kept a better eye on him.” Jack’s head snapped up, a retort on the tip of his tongue but Ianto lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips. “I’m not blaming them, Jack. I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just trying to make you realise that it wasn’t your fault – any more than my mother’s death was my fault.”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut, a tear leaking from the corner of his eye.

“You’re not a murderer, Jack,” Ianto murmured, kissing away the tear and then pressing a second kiss to his lips.

A sob burst from Jack’s lips as he had heard that. He had never imagined that Ianto would accept him, even defend him against the crimes that almost everyone – including himself – had accused him of over the last eight years.

Ianto’s hands tightened around him. “You are not a murderer,” he murmured again, “And I will say the same to anyone who dares call you that to my face.” He sighed, adding in a whisper Jack wasn’t sure he was meant to have heard. “I don’t understand how they can blame you.”

“They don’t know what really happened,” Jack muttered, resting his head on Ianto’s shoulder. “And none of them are willing to listen.”

Ianto didn’t speak, didn’t ask Jack to elaborate, but once again Jack knew that this was something he had to explain.

“We couldn’t stay in Boeshane, there were too many memories. My mother was born in Cardiff so she decided to move back there. I knew it would be a long journey, and I knew it would be dangerous, so I arranged for us to travel with a merchant’s caravan. The merchant agreed to let us travel with them, and in return I had to do my share of work – including scouting ahead for bandits.” He paused, lifting his head to see Ianto’s reaction. “I was paired with a mercenary called John Hart. He was a couple of years older than me and very handsome.”

Ianto’s forehead twitched, a small frown flickering across his face and Jack had to bite his lip to stop himself smiling at the show of jealousy. He pressed his lips to Ianto’s neck, nipping at the flesh above his pulse.

“Not quite as handsome as you, though,” he muttered in an undertone.

Ianto grinned, turning his head and raising his eyebrows.

“I should hope so too,” he teased, shrugging his shoulder and nudging Jack.

Jack chuckled, lifting his head but not stepping away from Ianto. “Anyway, I was fifteen years old and quick to confuse infatuation with love, and he knew how to get what he wanted. He seduced me and I went to his bed willingly. We spent a lot of time together during the journey. I wanted to forget what had happened and my mother’s grief made that difficult, so John was a welcome distraction. I told him what had happened, although that turned out to be a mistake. He asked me to join him, become a mercenary – but more than that. He wanted me to help him in a con; he told me he needed someone who was no stranger to killing. When I refused him, he was furious. We didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. I didn’t tell anyone what he had said and they just assumed that we’d had a lover’s tiff.” He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t realise how annoyed he was until we arrived in Cardiff. We lived near the city, then, and we had many neighbours but – whenever I approached them to introduce myself they didn’t want to know. I later found out that John had gone to the local tavern the night we had arrived and told them that I had murdered Gray – that I had let go of his hand intentionally. They didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say.”

John had tainted his reputation thoroughly. No one had wanted anything to do with him. The local youths would not befriend him and the farmers rarely gave him work. They had whispered about him behind his back, calling him murderer and other cruel names. It had led to their current poverty – but Jack couldn’t hate John for that anymore, because it had also brought him to Ianto.

“They’re pathetic,” Ianto spat suddenly, breaking the tense silence that had arisen following Jack’s words. “They didn’t even give you a chance. And they didn’t know him any better than they knew you.” He took a step back from Jack, cupping his face in his hands and meeting his eyes. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know the truth so their opinions shouldn’t matter.” He clutched Jack closer to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “The only person whose opinion should matter is your own. You know you didn’t let go of his hand intentionally, and I believe you.” He pressed a brief, closed-mouth kiss to Jack’s lips, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Ianto’s mouth was pressed hard against his, and Jack could practically feel the strength of his belief.

“Thank you,” he murmured as Ianto pulled away “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Ianto tilted his head to one side and smiled, “I think I have some idea.” He slid his hands around Jack’s waist, pulling him closer. “Everything you’ve done for me since we met, it’s more than I could ever have hoped for. I trust you Jack. You haven’t lied to me so far and I know you aren’t lying now.”

Jack felt his eyes cloud over again, he pressed another kiss to Ianto’s lips.

“Thank you,” he murmured, blinking quickly.

He knew he would always grieve his brother and his father, but Ianto’s acceptance made him question his own certainty of his guilt. Ianto was right: the townsfolk who called him murderer did not know the truth; and the two people who did know – Ianto and his mother – insisted upon his innocence. Perhaps, then, there was something to their words; perhaps there really was nothing he could have done.

He managed a weak smile. “I don’t deserve you, Ianto Jones,” he murmured. “I don’t know how, or why, but I have you – and that’s the one thing that keeps me questioning my guilt.” Jack glanced at his feet, raising his eyebrows slightly as he looked back to Ianto. “I do have you, right?”

Ianto cocked an eyebrow and leant in to kiss Jack again, catching his lips in a tender, closed-mouth kiss. It was all the answer Jack needed; he straightened up, sliding his hands down Ianto’s body until they rested on his hips, swiping his tongue over the curve of his lips. Ianto opened his mouth, and Jack delved inside, letting his tongue caress Ianto’s. A moan spilled from his lips, and he pressed forward against Ianto, thrusting his hips forward. The Welshman groaned, grinding against Jack, his already impressive erection growing more the kiss intensified. Ianto’s hands were tangled in Jack’s hair, holding him close, preventing him from pulling away. Finally, Jack turned his head to one side, pressing a last kiss to the corner of Ianto’s lips.

Ianto smiled, and let go of Jack, running his hand down on arm and interlacing their fingers.   
“Come on,” he murmured. “My room.”

There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, and Jack’s stomach fluttered as he hurried to catch up with him. The grief and guilt had by no means died away but they had been dulled by Ianto’s acceptance. Relief had eclipsed all other emotion. He smiled and pushed back the last spark of grief before hurrying after Ianto. It would not do to dwell on the tragedy any longer; tears and blame wouldn’t bring Gray or his father back. The past couldn’t be changed, but the present could. His actions now would determine the future and Jack knew that his future was centred on Ianto. He quickened his pace, determined to meet his future head on.

Ianto was waiting at the corner of the cupboard when Jack caught up with him. He took Jack’s hand again, tugging him closer for a kiss. Jack closed his eyes as Ianto’s lips brushed against his, before kissing a trail along his jaw. When Ianto pulled back to scramble down the side of the cupboard, Jack felt strangely bereft. He hurried to follow, dropping the last few metres.

Catching up with him, Jack plastered himself against Ianto’s back and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. Ianto leant back against him, grinding his ass into Jack’s crotch, then tilted his head back, twisting it to meet Jack’s kiss. “Jack,” he gasped. “I want you.”

He squirmed out of Jack’s hold and dragged himself up and into the cupboard. Jack reached up to help him, pressing his hands against Ianto’s ass to give him a boost. The young man glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. He turned when he reached the top and Jack clambered up behind him.

Ianto reached for the oil lamp, turning the valve until an orange glow filled the room. He pulled the door closed and turned back to Jack.

Jack was about to step towards him but Ianto's hands lighted on his arms first, drifting downwards to take hold of his hands. Linking their fingers he took a step back, leading Jack to the mattress.

He stopped beside it, sliding his hands back up Jack's arms and easing the coat off his shoulders, folding it over one arm before placing it on the end of the bed.

"I'll admit that I don't really know what I'm doing," he said as he stood up again. "I've only ever been with one man, and I don't recall that being very pleasurable."

Jack snorted. “I doubt he cared about your enjoyment.” He slid his hands around Ianto’s waist. “I, however, will make sure you have a very good time.”

He flicked his tongue over the shell of one ear.

“You’ve a very high opinion of your abilities,” Ianto teased, turning to kiss Jack. “I hope you can live up to those claims.”

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand, pressing the palm to his own crotch. He raised his eyebrows, grinning at Ianto’s stunned expression. “You think I will?”

Ianto jerked his hand back and turned bright red. It was a reaction that should have had Jack grinning and desperate for more but as he watched Ianto struggle to compose himself his smile faded. He stepped forward, running a hand across the back of his neck. There was no knowing how Ianto was going to react to his next words. “Ianto, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but last time you didn’t want to do this …”

Ianto turned around. “Yes, I did.” He stepped closer to Jack and slid the braces from his shoulders before beginning to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders to pool on the floor. His hands slid beneath Jack’s t-shirt, and he gasped as slender fingers ran over his chest, idly brushing his nipples, raising them up into hardened nubs. “I wanted you – and I was afraid to admit that. I was afraid to trust you.”

“What changed?” Jack asked, as Ianto began to unbutton his own shirt. He reached out, quickly unbuttoning Ianto’s shirt for him and pushing it off his shoulders. He leant closer, scattering kisses along his jaw and down his neck, sliding his fingers through the thick hair on his chest.

Ianto whimpered. “You trusted me.” He tilted his head back as Jack placed kisses up his neck, until he met his lips once more. “That’s enough,” he breathed, “Enough to convince me that you want me as much as you want this.”

“Both,” Jack gasped, lifting his arms to let Ianto pull his t-shirt over his head. “I want this. I want you. I want us.”

His hands dropped to fumble at Ianto’s belt, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops. He dropped it to the floor, placing his hands on Ianto’s hips and steering him back towards the mattress even as Ianto pushed his trousers over his hips and kicked them from his ankles.

Jack sank to his knees, peppering kisses across Ianto’s stomach and lower, pressing open mouthed kisses along Ianto’s cock through his underwear. He felt Ianto’s knees buckle and glanced up, sliding his hands under the waistband of Ianto’s shorts and sliding them down. He grinned, raising an eyebrow at Ianto, before pressing a kiss to the tip of his erection. He swiped his tongue around the head, placing his hands firmly on the Welshman’s hips to stop him sinking to the ground as he took him in his mouth.

Ianto moaned as Jack’s lips slid along his length, tongue tracing delicate patterns against his flesh. The noise sent a jolt of electricity through Jack, going right to his cock. Jack cast a glance up, smirking around Ianto’s erection as he saw his face. Head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted in a soft smile. Jack redoubled his efforts, letting a hand drop from Ianto’s hip to cup his balls, massaging them gently. It was clear that Ianto wouldn’t last much longer; he was already close to the edge, barely holding back his orgasm.

Jack hollowed his cheeks, letting his other hand slid behind Ianto, fingers sliding over his ass, probing at his entrance. Ianto let out a strangled cry as he came. Jack felt the splash of hot semen at the back of his throat and swallowed greedily. His hands returned to Ianto’s hips to steady him as his orgasm crashed through him. Jack’s name was torn from his lips as his body stiffened and arched before he sagged, boneless, in Jack’s arms.

Jack let Ianto’s cock slide from between his lips with a soft pop. The taste of Ianto was heady on his tongue, and he licked his lips as he glanced up to regard his lover. The Welshman managed a weak smile as he sank down to the mattress, sitting with his legs either side of Jack and leaning back against the wall. “Wow,” he breathed, as Jack leant up to kiss him. “You certainly do live up to your claims.”

Ianto’s breathing was still heavy, so Jack crawled around to sit beside him. He squirmed, trying to find the position that would be most comfortable while fully erect, but the movement only served to draw Ianto’s attention to his crotch.

“Oh!” Ianto flared red. “Jack, I’m sorry. I’m being selfish, I should...” He began to lower his head, but Jack placed a finger beneath his chin and tilted his head up.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jack said.

He captured Ianto’s mouth in a languorous kiss, letting their tongues twine and dance as he slid his arms around him.

“Lie back on the bed,” he mumbled in between kisses, guiding Ianto’s shoulder down encouragingly. He followed, barely breaking contact with Ianto’s lips even as he straddled his lover. Ianto’s cock twitched beneath him and Jack grinned; Ianto was young and had been starved of intimacy – round two would not be far off.

“You need to lose these,” Ianto muttered, breaking the kiss and pushing Jack up so that he could unfasten his belt and trousers before tugging them down. Jack twisted around to kick them off before stripping off his boxers with a flourish and tossing them across the room. He turned back to Ianto and leered, eyes drifting to his crotch where Ianto’s cock was already stiffening. Jack grinned, his tongue running over his lips again as he leant over Ianto again.

"You are gorgeous," he breathed, pressing a kiss to the end of his collarbone before swiping his tongue along to the hollow of Ianto's throat He scattered butterfly kisses up his neck, lingering over his pulse point before reaching up to his lips.

Jack continued his path across Ianto's face, touching his lips to the tip of Ianto's nose, his forehead and finally behind his ears. His hand coasted down Ianto’s body, finally resting in his lap, fingers twitching out to stroke his cock. His hand stilled, breath leaving him in a gasp as Ianto’s hand closed around his own erection. His fingers moved hesitantly in their exploration but Jack still groaned as Ianto slid his thumb through the pre-come seeping from the head. The noise must have reassured Ianto, for the movement quickened and Jack arched his back as pleasure shot through him. His head fell forward onto Ianto’s shoulder, his gasps and muttered words muffled by flesh. Ianto’s breath caressed his ear, and a shiver passed down his spine.

“I want you inside me,” he murmured, his lips finding the fleshy lobe and sucking it into his mouth. Jack groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the ripple of desire. He wanted that too: wanted to feel Ianto tight around him, to feel as if they were one, to share the pleasure that such intimacy brought.

They couldn’t, though. He shook his head against Ianto’s shoulder, finally turning it to meet his eyes. The hand on his cock faltered in its movement and then stopped altogether. “We can’t,” he murmured, kissing Ianto to soften his words. “We’ve nothing to use as lubricant. I won’t hurt you, Ianto.”

“I can take it,” Ianto insisted, curling his fingers around Jack’s cock again. “I’ve had worse.”

Jack knew he would have to change tactics if he wanted to dissuade Ianto. It mattered nothing to him that Ianto had been hurt before; he never wanted to be the cause. The thoughts were slow to come. Ianto was proving to be the perfect distraction. “I want you to enjoy it,” he murmured. “It’s no fun if you don’t. Anyway,” he added, the end of the word fading into a cry, “We can celebrate properly when we get home.”

“Fine,” Ianto muttered into his ear. “But we’re going to get some the moment we get back. No excuses.”

He grabbed hold of Jack’s arms and flipped them over, leaning down to kiss him. Jack tilted his head back, parting his lips and Ianto deepened the kiss.

“Can’t think of any,” Jack huffed a laugh as Ianto pulled back, “Especially not ones you’d accept.”

He wrapped his hand around Ianto’s cock again, running his fist up and down the length, swirling his thumb around the head and paying attention to every inch. He fell into time with Ianto, matching his every stroke with one of his own.

Ianto’s hand suddenly twisted around, stroking his fingers from the head to the base of his balls. Jack gasped, his hand stilling as he thrust his hips forward, grinding his crotch against Ianto’s. The Welshman mouth pressed against his cheek, lips curving upwards into a smile as he moved his hand, just barely, to skim fingers over his perineum.

Jack’s breath stuttered as he came, body stiffening, head rolling back on the mattress as he arched his back. Hot semen splashed across his stomach and a cry spilled from his lips, his body racked by his orgasm. Spent, Jack sagged back against the mattress, opening his eyes to gaze blearily up at Ianto.

He grinned, bucking his hips forward to rub against Ianto. His hand slid between them, curled around Ianto’s cock once more, and ran along the length, stroking languidly. Ianto’s breathing was already heavy, soft whimpers and moans slipping from his lips as he began to thrust forward in Jack’s hand, increasing the pace, and the friction of the strokes.

He came hard and fast, back arching, breath escaping in desperate gasps. His second orgasm was no less potent than the first, leaving him slumped in Jack’s arms when it had passed. Jack tilted his head down, nuzzling against Ianto’s throat and pressing kisses against the juncture between neck and shoulder.

Eventually, Ianto rolled off him, twisting on the mattress to face him. Eyes half-lidded and a smile playing on his face, Ianto inched forward to kiss Jack. Lips brushed against each other and Jack’s grin widened.

“That was amazing,” he murmured. “You are amazing.”

He reached blindly behind him, hand closing on his discarded t-shirt. He grabbed it, and wiped it across his stomach, scrubbing away the drying semen, before repeating the process for Ianto.

“We need to turn off the light,” Ianto mumbled, making to get to his feet. Jack pressed a hand to his shoulder, pinning him down to the bed. He rolled over, tossed the soiled t-shirt across the room, and reached out in the direction of the oil lamp. Edging forward slightly, he found the lamp within his grasp and quickly flicked off the valve.

He rolled back over. Ianto was still lying beside him, the same contented look on his face. Jack snuggled closer, sliding a hand around Ianto’s waist. The Welshman’s eyelids drooped again, flickering closed as his breathing began to even.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, brushing a soft kiss against his forehead. He hadn’t felt so sated in a long time, and the day’s excitement and emotion had taken its toll. He was exhausted and he knew sleep would come quickly.

“Night, Jack,” Ianto’s response was barely understandable, words distorted by Jack’s shoulder and slurred by sleep. Jack smiled, letting his own eyes slide shut. He would have pleasant dreams that night.

 

It was strange how quickly pleasant dreams could turn to nightmares. Jack’s eyes flickered open, torn from a dream of Ianto and his kisses by the man himself, roughly shaking his shoulders and pleading with him to wake. He pushed himself up on his elbows, still blinking blearily at Ianto.

“What’s going on?” he asked, sleep slurring his words. He looked around wildly, half expecting the giant to be leering in at him.

Ianto tugged at his arm, trying to haul him out of bed. “You have to get up, now,” his voice was insistent, a note of terror ringing through it. “We slept in too late. It’s dawn – my Master will be back any minute.” He gave Jack’s arm another tug. “Move! You can’t hide in here – it’ll be the first place he’ll look.”

He hurried around the room snatching up Jack’s clothes and throwing them towards him. Jack sighed, and pushed back the covers. Did Ianto really think he was going to leave without him? He wasn’t – it had never been so – and the previous night had only made his desire to take Ianto with him much more resolute. He began to pull on his shirt, “Ianto, I’m not leaving you here. You’re coming with me.”

Ianto paused, turning back towards Jack. “I know.” He crossed the room, crouching down before him. “I’m still coming with you – nothing has changed – but he’s going to be back any moment and if we leave now we’ll walk right into him. It’ll only be a few more hours – he’s bound to sleep for a few hours later, and we can make our escape then.”

Jack didn’t like it one bit. There was too much that could wrong in a few hours. Ianto could be injured further, their plans derailed because of a single punishment. He rose to his feet to button his trousers. “We could just run now, and find somewhere to hide until later.”

Ianto shook his head. “It’s no good,” he said. “I tried running away when I was first brought here. It didn’t work – I didn’t have anywhere to run to, and when I saw him searching and tried to hide he still found me in a matter of moments.” He shrugged. “There are so many rooms that I’m not allowed into, filled with treasure and magical artefacts. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn he’d used one of those to help him.” Ianto bent to pick up the greatcoat, shaking it out and sliding it onto Jack’s shoulders. “Please, Jack, let’s wait. I don’t want him to catch me escaping again.”

Jack was certain he didn’t want to hear about the punishment Ianto had received. If Ianto was desperate enough to beg in order a repeat then it was hardly pleasant. He turned to face Ianto and nodded. “Then we’ll wait. Where should I hide?”

Ianto’s relief was visible. The tension left his body in one long sigh. “Thank you,” he murmured, sliding his hand into Jack’s and beginning to lead him to the cupboard door. “You can hide in the larder. I make his meals; he’s no need to go in there.”

Jack nodded as he hurried behind Ianto out of the cupboard and across the kitchen floor. They had barely made it inside the larder when the front door slammed open. Ianto froze, glancing at Jack as the giant’s footsteps echoed along the hallway. “Quick,” he hissed, pushing Jack in between two enormous casks of wine. “Keep yourself hidden!”

He pulled Jack close for a quick kiss before turning on his heel and hurrying out of the larder. Jack did as Ianto had instructed, sliding back between the two casks towards the back wall. He froze as he stepped behind one and found himself inches away from a huge mouse hole. Jack shuddered and hurried past, not wanting to be nearby when the owner decided it was time for breakfast.

The kitchen door swung open and the giant stormed in, yelling for Ianto. Jack winced in sympathy for the young Welshman. He would not want their positions to be reversed, but if offered the choice then he would do so willingly. He glanced around the larder; although he would not be seen in his current position, neither would he be able to see anything going on in the kitchen. Jack didn’t like that. He wanted to be aware of what was happening at all times – and simply hearing events without a visual was not enough. He didn’t want to let his imagination run wild, fed by sounds that he could not entirely distinguish.

Jack edged around the room, behind the casks of wine and ale, and bags of grain spilling their contents from tears made by the resident of the mouse hole. He was only half way around the perimeter when the kitchen door swung open and the giant stormed in. Jack quickened his pace, hurrying round to the hinges of the door, where he was once again able to peer through the gap. His view was mostly impeded by the giant’s back, but it offered him a different view of the table.

In the centre of the table there was a small, golden harp of the smaller style used by travelling musicians. It was clearly an expensive instrument: the scrollwork at the top and bottom of the harp was decorated with small red gems which twinkled in the morning light. The strings shimmered and hummed of their own accord, creating a discordant noise that had Jack wincing. He had never seen it’s like before. While it was usual for harps to be carved in the image of beautiful women, this one resembled a man and even then – Jack squinted, leaning forward in an attempt to get a better look – his angular features did not create the handsome visage he would have expected.

His attention was diverted when Ianto came into view, dragging a large tea cup across the table towards his master. He bowed low in greeting, keeping his head lowered as he rose.

“What would you like for breakfast, Master?” he asked. The giant barely flicked a glance at Ianto.

“You can make me some porridge,” he snarled, snatching up the tea and taking a swig of it. He swallowed and then frowned, lifting the cup to his nose to inhale the scent.

“This tastes different,” he snapped. “I hope you aren’t trying to poison me, Ianto. You should know that I have the remedies for all known toxins – and I would be most displeased if I was forced to use them.”

Ianto took a step away from him. “Not poisoned, Master. Simply a herbal blend to help you relax.”

The giant set the tea on the table, shoving it towards Ianto roughly, splattering the hot liquid onto the table. Ianto dodged back away from it, avoiding the splashes. “It’s disgusting,” he snapped. “Get rid of it. I’d be able to relax if you would do as you were instructed.”

Ianto scrambled forward to collect the cup, heading to the edge of the table and out of Jack’s line of sight. With a sigh, Jack turned his attention back to Ianto’s master and the harp. The giant slid his hand along the strings of the harp, plucking them one at a time.

“Play for me,” he instructed. “Something pretty, something soothing.”

A tremor ran along the strings as the giant withdrew his hand, and then the harp began to play a soft melody. It was soothing, reminiscent of something Jack had heard in his childhood – a lullaby perhaps? Whatever it was, it was beautiful and heart-wrenching.

Ianto came back into view, heading in the direction of the cupboard, and Jack darted quickly across the larder to intercept him. As soon as Ianto stepped into the larder, Jack grabbed his sleeve and tugged him close. Ianto turned, leaning into Jack to brush a kiss against his lips. “Not now,” he whispered. “If I spend too long in here he’ll come looking. Anyway, you’re meant to be staying out of sight.”

Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry. He can’t see me.”

He did release Ianto though, not wanting to draw any attention to either of them. The Welshman moved past him towards one of the large sacks labelled ‘oats’ in large black stitching.

“What did you put into his tea? After drinking your coffee I can’t believe anything you made could be described as disgusting.”

Ianto glanced at the floor, biting his lip to diminish the soft smile on his face. “It was an infusion of Valerian root. It would have sent him to sleep – but I don’t know if he drank enough of it for it to take hold.”

He dipped the bowl he held into the sack to fill it with oats. He then stepped back to Jack, brushing another kiss across his cheek.

“It won’t be long now,” he murmured. Jack leant forward, catching his hand and giving it a quick squeeze before Ianto backed away. He held his hand for as long as possible, until distance pulled them apart.

Jack retreated back to his previous position to watch Ianto walk back towards the table. Once he was out of sight, his gaze flickered back to the giant. His eyes widened – the giant’s head was nodding. The sip of drugged tea – perhaps aided by the soothing music and the giant’s lack of sleep – was having the desired effect.

Jack heart was hammering against his chest as he waited, watching as the giant’s head slumped further and further against his chest, his body relaxing as all the tension fled. He glanced around for Ianto, but he was out of his line of sight. Without sign or signal from the Welshman, Jack couldn’t know if the giant was truly asleep, and thus could not leave the safety of the larder.

Minutes passed and the harp fell silent. Jack was itching to leave the larder and find Ianto when the Welshman reappeared in his field of vision, hurrying back to the larder. Jack strode over to the door to meet him. Ianto’s smile was wide as he rounded the door and threw his arms around Jack.

“He’s asleep,” he murmured as he disentangled himself, grabbing hold of Jack’s hand and pulling him towards the door. “Come on!”

They had made it half way across the kitchen when Ianto stopped dead. “Meet me at the window,” he said. “I’m going to get the harp.”

Jack shook his head and grabbed Ianto’s hand, trying to pull him back. “Leave it,” he hissed, “It’s not important.”

Ianto wrenched his hand away, stepping back towards the table. “You don’t understand,” he said, “The harp is enchanted. Owen was once a man – I can’t leave him here if I have a chance to help him escape.”

And Jack understood. He could not have left a fellow human being – even an enchanted one – to suffer the giant’s wrath if he could avoid it. Once the idea of a man being enchanted to resemble a magical harp would have made him laugh, but now he found he accepted it easily. Nothing seemed as strange when you were standing in the middle of a giant’s kitchen. Stepping back in the direction of the cupboard, he nodded.

“Be quick,” he murmured, “And be careful.”

He turned and headed in the direction of the cupboards. As he climbed, he reasoned that Ianto’s desire to rescue Owen was not entirely selfless. It appeared that the laws of this strange world had made Ianto unable to escape using his own devices. The idea of being rescued must have rankled against every fibre of independence he harboured and the only way to reassert it was to rescue a man even more trapped than he was.

He scrambled onto the counter and stopped to watch Ianto as he hurried across the kitchen floor towards him. He lay flat on the counter, taking hold of the harp as soon as it came within reach and hoisting it up onto the counter. Tucking it under one arm he held out a hand to Ianto.

“Oi, watch what you’re doing,” the muttered comment was accompanied by a shrill note.

Jack almost dropped the harp, recovering in time to prevent it smashing to the kitchen floor. He held it out at arm’s length and stared at the figure of the man carved into it.

“So you’re the idiot who keeps on risking his life for the teaboy. You look like the sort who’d have more sense.”

Jack glared at the harp, already forming an irrational dislike for the man. “Ianto is much more than a teaboy,” he hissed. “He’s worth every risk.”

The harp snorted, the golden figure scowling at him. Jack was about to add more when he felt Ianto’s hand curl around his arm.

“Ignore him,” he murmured, leaning his chin on Ianto’s shoulder. “Owen’s a grouchy bastard at the best of times. He’s always worse when he’s been made to perform.”

He tightened his grip on Jack’s arm and began to steer him towards the windowsill.

“You’d be grouchy too if you hadn’t even been able to have a wank in three years,” the harp muttered.

Jack raised his eyebrows. As much as he hated to admit it, Owen did have a point there. He motioned for Ianto to wait, set the harp down on the counter and undid his belt. He threaded the leather through the harp and then buckled it again before slipping the loop over his arm.

“Is that more to your liking?” he asked the harp.

The harp grunted noncommittally, and Jack chose to take that as acquiescence. Neither did Ianto protest at Jack’s decision to take the harp for now. Of that, Jack was glad. He knew by now that he could climb the beanstalk whilst carrying something. It would be Ianto’s first trip down the beanstalk, and Jack would prefer for him to do it unencumbered.

He slid his hand into Ianto’s and, began to hurry towards the window once again. Jack climbed back up onto the sill, glancing over his shoulder towards the giant to ensure that he still slept.

He turned back to Ianto, and nodded towards the tree. “Go on,” he murmured. “You go first.”

Ianto made the jump from tree to sill with ease, grabbing hold of the branches to steady himself. He sidled along it, giving Jack room to land and glanced back, gaze sliding from Jack to the giant behind him, finally settling on Jack.

Jack leapt. As soon as his feet left the windowsill the harp let out a discordant noise. Its stings vibrated furiously, music rising in a crescendo. He staggered, landing in the tree off balance, and knew he would have fallen if it weren’t for Ianto reaching out to grab him. He didn’t need to look back; he had heard the scraping of the chair across the kitchen floor. The giant had woken.

“Go!” he yelled, pushing Ianto towards the trunk of the tree, swinging himself down onto the lower branches, scrambling down the tree. He glanced back up once to see the giant’s fist close in around mid air, in the very spot where he had Ianto had been standing moments before.

Jack reached the base of the tree moments after Ianto. He reached blindly for Ianto, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him in the direction of the gate.

“What was that for?” he snapped at Owen as the furious noise stopped. “Anyone would think you wanted to stay there!”

“That wasn’t me!” the harp shot back. “I’ve never been outside the castle before – I didn’t know it was going to happen!”

Jack scoffed, but didn’t respond. There was no point in wasting time with stupid arguments – and he thought that Owen was probably speaking the truth. It made sense that the giant had enchanted some of his items against theft, especially considering he had already had some stolen. As they raced through the grass, Jack chanced a glance back. To his surprise, the giant was still standing in the window, leaning against the frame and watching them.

“Run,” Ianto tugged on his hand, and Jack increased his pace, unaware that he had even slowed. “He knows he’s going to catch us,” he gasped. “He probably thinks it’s fun to give us a head start.”

From all he had seen of the giant so far, Jack knew that Ianto was likely right. The head start was a lengthy one, and that only added to Jack’s unease. That too was probably the giant’s intention Jack realised as he squeezed through the bars of the gate and led Ianto into the grass alongside the pathway.

They raced on, gaining a few more metres before Jack heard the castle door open and the giant emerge. They were only half way between the castle and beanstalk but the giant’s strides would cover the distance to them before they could reach it. Jack willed his legs to move faster, chest burning as his breath came in ragged spurts. It was no use. They were never going to make it.

“Go,” Ianto panted beside him, trying to wrench his hand free from Jack’s grip. “Jack, we’re never going to make it.”

His words were strained, but Jack couldn’t tell if that was due to his struggle for breath or the realisation that freedom would be snatched from him again. Probably both, he realised, as he tightened his grip on Ianto’s hand and pulled him along.

“Jack, let me go,” Ianto cried, and Jack slowed, turning back to shake his head at him.

There was no way he was going to leave Ianto behind this time. He had promised he would help him escape. He wasn’t going to give up now. But the beanstalk was still so far away, and the giant was coming closer with every step.

Ianto was pulling at his hand, trying to wrench free of Jack’s grasp. “You need to,” he rasped but his next words were much clearer, the emotion in them transparent. “I don’t want to see you die because of me. Jack, I love you.”

Jack faltered, Ianto’s words shocking him to the core. It was too soon, he wanted to say, but his heart argued that it wasn’t. Love was never too soon. He glanced back at the giant, only metres behind them now and advancing ever quicker. Ianto was right; if they did continue to the beanstalk together they would be caught. He would be killed, and Ianto would be forced to suffer through it. That was the last thing he wanted. If he allowed Ianto to divert the giant’s attention, however, he would be able to escape and return for Ianto another day.

“Promise me you’ll be OK,” he hissed. “Promise me and I’ll go on.”

It was the only way he would be able to live with himself if he were to do this. Even if he knew the promise to be a lie, it would be better than hearing nothing.

Ianto’s eyes closed. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered. “Just come back for me, please. In two days, come back for me.”

Jack reached out, running his fingers down Ianto’s cheeks before taking a step back. “Of course I’m coming back,” he murmured. “I’ll always come back for you.”

Ianto nodded and pulled away. He didn’t spare Jack even the slightest glance as he began to run towards the giant. Jack watched him for a moment before turning and sprinting away through the grass. His chest burned even more painfully than before, his breath coming more raggedly now it had to fight past the lump in his throat. He stumbled on, ducking under the branches of a bush in an attempt to hide his path from the giant.

Jack tried to ignore the giant’s roar and the cry of pain and fear that followed it. He didn’t even know if he was still being pursued and nor did he want to. Fear blotted out everything until he was no longer capable of thinking beyond the movement of his legs and the direction of the beanstalk.

The distance narrowed, the rose bush growing bigger and bigger as he got closer. He leapt through the hole, wrapping his arms tight around the beanstalk before starting to descend. After climbing for a few minutes it became clear he was no longer being pursued and he sagged against the stalk, gulping in air and trying to control the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

“I’m sorry, mate.” Jack flinched at Owen’s voice. He hadn’t forgotten that it had been the harp that had woken the giant. “It really wasn’t intentional,” the harp continued. “I wanted out just as much as he did. I didn’t ask to be cursed.”

Jack believed him. The harp was probably uncertain of the details of his curse; he didn’t think the giant would have sat down to explain it entirely. No, he would have found it amusing to let Owen discover the details for himself. Nevertheless he didn’t want to hear his apologies; he didn’t want to hear the twang that accompanied every word.

“Shut up,” he ground out, as he began to climb again. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The climb down the beanstalk was the hardest Jack had made. Several times he paused and glanced back towards the clouds, wanting to return but knowing that it was too soon. He had promised Ianto he would return in two days, and he knew that waiting made sense. The giant would be watching for him. Returning now would be certain suicide.

Thankfully, Owen didn’t attempt to start up a conversation again. Jack was focussing all his attention on climbing down the beanstalk, knowing that if he allowed it to drift he would lose the control he had on his emotions. He could see his cottage far below, and as he got closer he could make out his mother waiting for him. He dropped the last few feet, stumbling towards his mother who hurried closed, her arms outstretched.

“Jack, what happened? Where’s Ianto?”

Jack fell to his knees at the sound of Ianto’s name. His vision blurred with tears and he made no attempt to hold them back. Dropping to the ground beside him, his mother wrapped her arms tightly around him, her hand rubbing up and down the length of his back as she murmured soothing words that he couldn’t make out. He dropped his head forward, burying it in her shoulder and wept.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack leant against the railing of the stall watching the pair of day-old foals frolic around their mother. They were beautiful animals, and even Jack’s untrained eye could tell they would grow to be strong, healthy animals – although hopefully with a gentler temperament than their sire, Abaddon.

He had walked to the Mangers’ farm on his mother’s request. She had wanted him to buy some seeds and bulbs to plant in their vegetable patch and Jack had agreed. It beat waiting around in the cottage, having to see the beanstalk every time he looked out of the window and listen to Owen’s moans. It seemed impossible that he had only abandoned Ianto the day before; it seemed like forever. He had tortured himself the previous night with thoughts of how Ianto was suffering, his imagination proving itself incredibly vivid. The distraction his mother had offered had been more than welcome.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Estelle leant on the railing beside him. Jack glanced sidelong at her. Bilis Manger had been out in the fields when Jack had arrived and Estelle had dragged him into the barn to see the newborns.

“Stunning,” he agreed. He wondered how much Bilis Manger would want for the pair. He was sure it would be a large sum, but equally certain that he would be able to afford the cost. He had considered buying one when he had first climbed down the beanstalk but had discounted the idea. It would make the journey into Cardiff much quicker but Jack was quite content walking. The idea of owning two horses – one for him and one for Ianto – offered a whole range of different temptations: moonlit rides, wild gallops through the countryside – with Ianto at his side. His grin faded as he watched the blush rise up her neck and the soft, hopeful smile on her lips.

She was beautiful. Jack once entertained hopes of courting her, and clearly she had felt the same about him. Those times had passed, however, and he knew they had no future together. Jack’s future was Ianto; there could be no substitute.

“Would your Father be willing to sell them?” he asked, “I’ve been courting someone, and I think that he’d love to have one.”

He wanted to prevent her raising her hopes further. He suspected that Bilis Manger would be more willing to consider their courtship if he knew Jack was a rich man. The man had no scruples when it came to money.

Estelle’s smile flickered, the hope in her eyes dying. “I am pleased for you, Jack,” she said. “You’ve always been so lonely. I’m glad you’ve found someone to make you happy.”

Jack felt terrible for crushing her hopes so. He reached out, cupping her face and smiling gently. “You will find someone, Estelle. I’m sorry it couldn’t be me.”

He knew he could have loved her, would have perhaps even married her, if he hadn’t met Ianto. Estelle smiled tightly, and stepped back away from Jack. “I’m sure he would sell them, for the right price,” she informed him. “Although they aren’t going to be ready to go for some months yet.”

There was a wild whinny from the yard, followed by crashing hoof beats. Abaddon appeared in the open barn door, rearing and kicking out with fore and hind legs. Jack pushed Estelle to one side as the crazed horse raced towards them, raising his hands to try and calm the animal. Abaddon reared up on its hind legs, kicking out at Jack. He lifted his hand higher, ducking his head to shield his face from the hooves.

He cried out as one struck his shoulder, the accompanying crunch bringing on a wave of nausea as his arm fell limp to his side. He tried to lift it again but any attempts resulted in searing pain.

“No!” he cried out, trying to duck away from Abaddon. The hooves flailed and Jack’s head exploded in agony.

He swayed on his feet, his vision blurring and fading to black. His legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the floor. With only one arm to break his fall, and no time to move it, Jack’s head bounced against the floor. The last he knew was pain and the sound of Estelle’s screams ringing in his ears.

 

“He’s waking – what do I do?”

His mother’s voice was laced with concern, her hands gentle against his skin as she stroked his forehead. Water dribbled onto his lips and he parted them reflexively, letting the drops slide down his throat. Consciousness returned, as did his awareness of the rest of his body, of the deep throbbing pain in his shoulder and his head. He groaned, his eyes flickering open.

“What happened?” he rasped, trying to push himself up in bed. Pain shot through his arm and he cried out, collapsing back into the mattress. He hugged it to his chest and gazed up at his mother in desperation. He could remember setting out to the Manger’s farm that morning but nothing since.

His mother sat on the bed beside him, sliding an arm around his waist.

“Lean up,” she murmured. Jack’s eyes narrowed even as he struggled upright. She was hiding something from him. He swung his gaze around the room, looking for anything out of place. That he had been knocked unconscious was clear, and whatever had caused that had given him a headache too. Presumably, the ache in his shoulder had been acquired at the same time. He tried to flex it, roaring as the slight movement caused pain to tear through it.

“Jack, mate, you need to keep it still. It’s broken – it needs to heal.”

Jack shot Owen a glare.

“How would you know?” he spat. His shoulder couldn’t be broken. He had to climb the beanstalk again tomorrow – Ianto was relying on him to return. There was no way he could do that if he couldn’t even lift his arm above his head. He tried again, aiming for the glass of water on the bedside table, but even the slightest twitch tore a scream from his lips. He sank back into the pillows, blinking tears back.

“I told you to lie still,” Owen snapped, “I do know what I’m talking about – I used to be a physician, you idiot. You’ll be laid up for weeks as it is. Don’t be stupid and make it longer.”

Jack sagged back against the pillows his mother had pushed up behind him.

“What happened?” he asked again. His mother sighed, reaching forward to smooth his ruffled hair.

“You don’t remember then?” She shook her head, continuing before Jack had chance to respond. “Master Manger’s carthorse spooked while you were there. It ran right at you, rearing and kicking ,and you couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. The hooves caught you here,” her fingers skimmed lightly over his head, “And here.” She gestured to his shoulder. “Master Manger brought you back in a cart – was very grateful that you’d saved his daughter injury. We thought for a time that you wouldn’t wake up.”

Jack glanced around the room, glancing out of the window. The sun was high in the sky, striping the land with shadows. That was wrong. The sun should have been setting – it had been noon by the time he had set out, and he assumed by his mother’s words that he’d been unconscious for hours.

“How long have I been out?” he demanded.

His mother stepped back, glancing over Jack towards the window. She didn’t answer and nor did Owen and Jack knew that he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“How long?”

His mother sighed, sinking down onto the bed. “Three days.”

There was more, but Jack didn’t hear that; the ringing in his ears drowned all else out. Three days had passed. That was too long. He was supposed to have been back for Ianto two days ago. He cursed aloud, thumping his good hand down on the bed. Ianto had been relying on him – what would he think now? He’d think that Jack had abandoned him, that’s what.

His mother sighed, reaching out to run her hand through his hair. “Jack, I know you’re worried about your Ianto but he’ll understand when you explain it to him. He won’t hate you for a little delay.”

Jack shook his head. A little delay? Owen had said it would take weeks to mend. How could he begin to explain that to Ianto? “You don’t understand,” he said. “He’s been abandoned by everyone he’s ever known – I can’t let him be hurt like that again. I can’t hurt him like that. He’s relying on me to go back for him.”

“Jack, he’ll understand. He’ll have to. There’s no way you can climb that beanstalk with your arm like that.”

Jack knew his mother spoke reason – and he knew Ianto would understand the delay. That didn’t mean he had to like it. Ianto would be thinking the worst of him; he would think Jack had abandoned him, when that could never be anything but untrue. And if he had to wait weeks until he was able to climb the beanstalk again... that was unthinkable. Ianto could be dead by then, or perhaps he would have been rescued by someone else.

The thought of Ianto in someone else’s arms, being kissed by them, being fucked by them, was unbearable. Jack knew that he ought not to be miserable about the idea of Ianto’s freedom but the thought of it being spent with anyone but him turned his stomach.

“I can’t leave him there for weeks. He’d hate me.” He crumpled his fist in the bedding. “Just like everyone else.”

His mother’s arms slid around him gently, hands running up and down his back. “There’s nothing you can do now,” she murmured. “Owen says that it’ll take weeks for you to heal. You just have to wait, and then, when you’re well again, you can go and see him. If he hates you then he was never worth it. If he’s half the man you say he is, he’ll be glad to see you.”

“And he has to suffer until then, is that right?” Jack snapped.

There was a twang as Owen sighed, expiration clear in his tone. “Ianto’s stronger than you think,” he said. “He’s coped with a lot in the years he’s been there. A few more weeks won’t hurt him – and I don’t think you should worry about him hating you. He loves you, doesn’t he? Then he’ll forgive you. It’s stupid what people will do when they’re in love.”

Jack shook his head. He wouldn’t allow Ianto to suffer a moment longer than he had to. His mother thought there was nothing they could do, but she was wrong. She wasn’t the one in love with Ianto. She could only see the sensible option. There was another, dangerous and definitely stupid but if it worked he would be able to reach Ianto in no time at all.

He looked up, meeting his mother’s gaze. “Owen’s right,” he said. “It’s stupid what people will do when they’re in love.”

He pushed back the covers with his hand and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Jack!” His mother climbed to his feet. “What on earth are you doing? You need to be resting!”

Jack turned, holding his arm close to his body. His mother’s hands were firmly planted on her hips as she scowled at him. Jack had often quailed under that glare, but this time he held his ground. “I’m going to see Mistress Sato. If medicine can’t help me, maybe magic can. It’s not done me any harm so far.”

His mother gasped. “Jack, you can’t!” she snapped. “You’ve meddled with those forces enough. Anymore and you’re going to get yourself into serious trouble. Mistress Sato is dangerous, she messes with powers no one should.”

“They’re just rumours.” Jack protested, “Just like the ones about me. And we both know they aren’t true.” He sank down onto the bed, cradling his head in his good hand. “Ianto knows about my past, he knows about the rumours and he doesn’t care. For his sake, I’m willing to ignore all the rumours and beg Mistress Sato for her help.”

“She’s a witch, Jack,” his mother snapped. “Who knows what she’ll expect in return?”

“More to the point,” Owen scoffed, “You’re going to use magic over tried and tested medical techniques? You’re more of an idiot than I thought!”

Jack ignored him, looking up and meeting his mother’s gaze. “I don’t care. Whatever she asks, I’ll pay it.”

The words were intended as bravado but as they left his mouth he realised that they were the truth. He didn’t care about the price. He would pay it if it allowed him to rescue Ianto sooner.

“Even if it costs you your freedom?”

Jack exhaled sharply. He hadn’t thought it would come to that – hoped it wouldn’t but if it did... would he consider it? The answer came to his mind in an instant: of course he would. Ianto had suffered long enough, and Jack had promised that he would end his captivity. He didn’t intend going back on that now.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he reiterated. “Mother, I know you disagree but I need to try this. If it doesn’t work then I’ll wait, but not before.”

He strode over to the wardrobe and pulled the doors open, reaching for a clean shirt and trousers. He sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to pull on his trousers one handed. It proved difficult, and the trousers fell to the ground three times before Jack allowed his frustration to get the better of him. He kicked them across the bedroom floor. “Damn it!”

He dropped to the bed, breathing coming in fast heavy gasps through gritted teeth. His mother bent to pick them up, folding them and placing them on the bed beside him. Leaning forward she brushed a kiss across his temple.

“There’s nothing I can say to dissuade you, is there?” she asked.

Jack shook his head. “I’m going, Mother. You won’t change my mind.”

His mother straightened up and sighed. “You aren’t going anywhere, Jack,” she said. Jack’s head snapped up, a protest on his lips, but before he could voice it she continued. “I’m going. Mistress Sato’s house is not that far away, and I’m not so frail that I can’t have her here by night fall.”

Owen snorted. “I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this! I thought you were the one with sense!” The harp resonated with anger, strings vibrating furiously. “She’ll just make it worse. Magic is no good for anything.”

“And if I don’t he’s going to get up and walk there himself,” his mother snapped back. “At least here’s he’s going to be resting that arm, like you ordered.”

Jack understood Owen’s distrust of magic, but it was not something he shared. He could see the dangers inherent in magic use but he could also see its benefits. Hadn’t magic brought him to Ianto?

He also understood his mother’s sudden change of heart. It made sense for her to go in his place, and truthfully the journey would only take her two hours on foot – and the return journey less if Mistress Sato agreed to accompany her and offered the use of her horse and trap. That didn’t mean he had to like it. It was his risk to take and he did not want her endangering herself for him.

“Mother...” Jack got to his feet, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close, placing a kiss on her head. “You shouldn’t have to go. I’m well enough to go.”

She shook her head, taking a step back and placing her hands on her hips. “I hope you aren’t suggesting what I think you are?” she asked. “I am quite capable of walking to the edge of the forest and back, and at the moment I believe I am in better shape than you.” Jack raised an eyebrow, but his mother continued without giving him chance to respond. “You’re injured, Jack, and I know it’s hurting you.” She held up a finger, stalling his protest. “Don’t try to tell me it isn’t. I’m your Mother. I can tell.”

Jack frowned, stepping back and sitting on the edge of his bed. His arm did hurt; even the slightest movement caused him pain. It would be torturous trying to walk the distance to the forest and Jack knew that it would only make the injury worse. What damage would he cause his shoulder – and how much longer would it take to mend, if Mistress Sato were unable to help?

“You know it makes sense for me to go,” his mother said. “If this doesn’t work then you won’t have dragged yourself out there for nothing, and if it does you’ll be rested and able to climb straight up that beanstalk.”

That was all Jack needed to be convinced. He wanted to get back to Ianto as soon as possible. There was nothing he could do to erase the two day delay but by stopping it growing longer he could hope to erase some of the doubts Ianto would now have.

“If you aren’t back by nightfall, I’m coming after you,” he said. That was something he wouldn’t back down on, but to his relief his mother did not even press the issue.

She leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back long before, then,” she reassured him. “Get some rest, don’t worry about me.”

Jack allowed himself to be guided back into bed, the covers tucked tight around him. He leant back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Despite spending the last three days unconscious, he was still very tired. Maybe he would try and get some sleep while he waited for his mother to return with Mistress Sato.

 

Mistress Sato – or Toshiko as she insisted on being called – was quite unlike anything Jack had imagined. She was slim and petite, and had a quiet, understated beauty unlike the radiant visage he had pictured. She also lacked the confidence he had been certain she would display. When they were introduced she merely smiled and nodded, her eyes not lingering on Jack’s for long. Jack couldn’t help but wonder if her timidity was as much the cause of her solitude as the rumours.

When his mother had departed, claiming that she was tired, Toshiko approached the bed. The bag she carried making a quiet thunk as she placed it on the floor beside her. Then she bent over the bed, peeling back the covers to expose Jack’s shoulder. Toshiko studied it for a moment before reaching into her bag and pulling out a long, thin, silver wand.

She waved it over the shoulder before pulling it back to peer at the side, where a faint green glow shone. “This is a bad break,” she remarked, as she replaced the covers. “But it will heal.”

“I already knew that! But of course, he discounts my advice! But what do I know? I’m just a bloody doctor!” Owen muttered under his breath. In the hush of the room, however, it was perfectly audible and Toshiko looked up her gaze flickering past Jack to land on the harp.

“Excuse me, I didn’t quite catch that?

Jack knew he couldn’t reveal Owen’s secret, and the harp was unwilling to speak again so soon. He would have to think of something – and fast. “I didn’t hear anything,” he protested. “You must have heard the wind.”

Toshiko raised her eyebrows, turning to regard Jack. “I am not stupid, Master Harkness,” she said. “I have studied magical artefacts for years. I know one when I see one and that,” she pointed at Owen, “Is no ordinary harp.” She regarded the harp again. “Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to repeat that, or must I assume that you believe I can’t heal him because I’m a woman.”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Nothing to do with you being a woman, love. I’ve played doctor with many a woman. I know from experience that they’re very good. I’m more concerned about you using magic to cure him. You could just make things worse!”

Toshiko frowned, squaring her shoulders and narrowing her eyes and even Jack sucked in his breath sharply. He could feel the tension in the room, and readied himself to intercede in any argument that was to arise. To his surprise nothing happened, Toshiko merely set aside the silver wand and took up another item, a long chain of silver from which dangled a round stone that shifted colours in the light.

“I know what I’m doing,” she murmured, running her hand along the crystal and twisting the end a half turn before hesitating. “But first you must tell me what is so important that you cannot let nature run its course?”

Jack closed his eyes; he didn’t want to answer that. What if Toshiko didn’t consider his answer good enough? What if she laughed at the trivialities and said that it was not worth her time or effort. What then? Could he really wait for weeks to pass until he was hale again? The answer that was no, and Jack knew that. He would have to do his best to convince her of his honesty.

“It’s a long story, so you’ll forgive me if I only tell it in part,” Jack began. “I’m sure you saw the beanstalk outside?”

He paused and Toshiko nodded, tilting her head to one side as she listened.  
“I traded our cow for some magic beans,” Jack explained. “My mother was not best pleased and threw them from the window. I woke in the morning to find they had grown into the beanstalk. I climbed it, and at the top I found a wonderful land and a giant’s castle and... Ianto.” He smiled to himself, glancing beyond Toshiko to peer up at the clouds through the window. “The giant has him enslaved. He abuses and humiliates him at any opportunity but Ianto... he’s not let himself be broken. He’s wonderfully brave and intelligent. Handsome too.” His lips quirked into a smile and he turned back to Toshiko, meeting her gaze. “I love him, and I promised him I would go back for him – I can’t exactly do that with my arm like this.”

Toshiko’s expression would have been unreadable if it wasn’t for the hint of sadness that shone in her eyes. After a moment or two she smiled and hung the crystal above Jack’s shoulder once again.

“If that isn’t a reason, I don’t know what is,” she said. She turned the bottom of the crystal one full turn and let it spin. Coloured lights danced across Jack’s skin, flashing purple and blue, green and gold, and Jack felt the pain in his shoulder ease and then fade away entirely.

He rolled it tentatively, then pushed away the blankets and sat up, raising his arm above his head. There was no flare of pain, not even a dull ache. Jack grinned, leaping to his feet and dancing Toshiko around the bed. She shrieked in shock, and batted at his shoulder until he came to a halt.

“Thank you!” he breathed. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Toshiko gestured towards the bed. “Sit,” she instructed, a deep blush colouring her cheeks. “I’m going to take a look at your head too. Your mother mentioned you had been unconscious for three days. I’d like to make sure you’re fit before I let you climb that beanstalk.”

Jack sat on the edge of the bed immediately, pulling the covers over his lap to save Toshiko’s modesty. It had never occurred to him that he was dressed only in his underwear and while he did not doubt that Toshiko had enjoyed the view, he was also aware that his undressed state was making her very uncomfortable.

He tilted his head to one side to allow Toshiko to reach the raised lump. The crystal scraped across the wound as the wise woman lifted it in the air and set it spinning, and Jack winced, closing his eyes against an onslaught of dizziness and pain that was not helped by the flashing lights.

“What does that thing even do?” Owen asked suddenly. He sounded curious, and a little awed. Jack cracked open one eye and glanced towards the harp, wondering at the sudden change of mind.

“I don’t know exactly,” Toshiko explained. “It seems to identify any injuries and reverse them completely but I’ve yet to discover how. It took me long enough to learn this much about it.” She shot a look towards Owen, curiosity in her own voice. “And what’s your story? It isn’t every day I meet a magical item that can actually talk.”

When Owen answered, his voice was thick with emotion. His strings vibrated, playing a mournful melody to accompany his words. Jack shuddered; he’d heard the basics of Owen’s story the previous night and they hadn’t been happy.

“What’s to tell?” he snapped. “I used to be a man until that giant turned me into a bloody musical instrument. I bet he thought it was funny – Owen Harper the harp. Haha. Yeah, I’m laughing. Very funny.”

“What did you say to piss him off?” Toshiko asked, and Jack winced on her behalf. He couldn’t blame her for asking such a barbed question. Owen had barely said a polite word to her since she had arrived, deliberately baiting her for no reason than her interest in magic. That would be enough to give anyone the wrong idea.

The music rose to a discordant crescendo, notes crashing against the walls of the room. “He killed my Katie,” Owen snapped. “He broke her neck and when I went seeking revenge he did this to me.” His voice softened. “I used to love listening to her play the harp. When he killed her I couldn’t bear to hear music. He saw that, and turned me into this – so I could never go a day without being reminded of her.”

“I’m sorry,” Toshiko apologised. “I had no idea. Is there any way the curse can be broken? Some magical artefact, I wonder? You’ll have to tell me all you know – I might be able to help.”

The crashing music died down to a soft hum. “You’d do that?”

The cycle of flashing colours emanating from the crystal stopped and Toshiko jerked, turning her attention back to Jack. From her expression of embarrassment, Jack suspected that she had forgotten he was even in the room.

“How do you feel?” Toshiko asked him, as she placed the crystal back into the bag.

Jack ran his fingers over the place where the wound had been. The bump was gone, and with it the pain. Not only that but the hunger and lack of energy he should have felt from three days abed were absent. There was no reason to delay his climb up the beanstalk any longer. He grinned and bounded to his feet, rushing over to the chest of drawers where his clothing from before had been placed.

“Oi, Harkness!” Owen’s voice cut across the room and Jack whirled to face him.“Not all of us want to see you starkers, you know,” the harp continued. “Give me and the lady chance to leave the room before you start stripping!”

Jack raised his eyebrows but gestured to the door. “If you would wait outside, Toshiko, I’d be glad to discuss payment with you when I am dressed.” He glanced over at Owen. “If you don’t mind taking Owen with you – I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“I’m sure he would,” Toshiko replied, shouldering her bag before picking up the harp and carrying it towards the doorway. “He and I have a lot to discuss.”

Jack nodded, waiting until the door had shut before changing his underwear and pulling on a new set of clothes. He could hear the low rumble of voices next door, Owen’s and Toshiko’s at first and then his mother’s joined them. Bringing Toshiko here couldn’t have worked out any better, he thought. Not only had his injuries been healed completely but Owen had a real chance at ending his curse. Jack had promised the harp that he would help him but he didn’t even know where to begin looking. Toshiko would have a much better chance of success.

Sliding his coat onto his shoulders, Jack stepped out into the kitchen. Toshiko and his mother both looked round at him. His mother rose to her feet and approached him, pulling him into a hug.

“It’s good to see you on your feet again, Jack,” she murmured. “Toshiko really has worked wonders.” She turned to the woman in question. “Are you quite sure you don’t want anything in payment?”

Toshiko shook her head. “I have quite enough without charging those with good reason to ask for my help.” She turned her head to regard Jack. “Especially when they are quite willing to sell their freedom to gain it. You don’t need to pay me anything – although I do have a request of my own.”

Jack nodded, and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Owen and I have spoken, and I have suggested that he return with me so that I can examine him further and determine how best to rid him of his curse. He has agreed.”

“Hey,” Owen interrupted. “I’m never going to refuse a detailed examination by a beautiful woman. Besides, I want rid of this form so I can go out drinking and whoring again.”

The blush that had appeared on Toshiko’s face at Owen’s first words vanished with his second. She shouldered her bag once more, and turned to regard him. When she spoke her tone was bordering on disdainful. “I am glad I like a challenge, Doctor Harper, because living with you will be one. At least I won’t have to cook and clean for you in this form.”

Jack shrugged; he was more than happy to agree to the solution. As he had previously thought, Toshiko would have a better chance at ridding Owen of his curse, whatever it took. “If you’re both in agreement, then I don’t see why I would protest.”

“That wasn’t the request,” Toshiko replied. “Owen agreed to come with me if you and Ianto would come to visit us when you return. He would like to know his friends succeeded – and I must admit. I’d like to see the man who has driven you to these lengths.”

Jack grinned. “Consider it done. Maybe you’ll even be free of your curse.”

His eyes slid out of the window, towards the clouds before flickering back to the group assembled in the kitchen. His mother stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Go,” she said. “Go now and bring him home.”

Jack nodded. Suddenly a wave of nervous anticipation rose in him. His heart pounded beneath his ribs and his mouth was almost too dry to bid goodbye to Toshiko and Owen. Hands shaking, he belted on his father’s sword and stepped outside.

The sun was setting, the sky darkening. Normally this would have led Jack to abandon the climb until the next day but he knew that tonight would be a full moon and a clear night. There was no need to wait. He would storm up the beanstalk, find Ianto and bring him down – home.

He swallowed down his fears. Even if Ianto now hated him for the delay he would surely jump at a chance at freedom. He wouldn’t have to work hard to convince Ianto to come with him; the difficulty lay in convincing him to stay afterwards.

He reached up for the lower branches of the beanstalk and, for the last time, began to climb.

 

Jack made quick work of the beanstalk, correct in his assumption that the darkness would not hinder his vision in the slightest. The world above the clouds was hushed and calm, and lit by silver moonlight the large proportions seemed even more eerie. Jack did not share the calm; instead it made his already fraught nerves worse. With every step closer to the castle, Jack became more and more certain that something was very wrong and by the time he reached the place where he and Ianto had parted, he was running.

He skidded to a halt beneath the tree, leaning against the bark as he caught his breath. High above, through the kitchen window, he could hear Ianto speaking, but distance and the muffled tone Ianto was using made his words indistinguishable.

Breathing easily once more, Jack stuck his foot into the crack on the branch and levered himself up. He scrambled towards the branches overlooking the windowsill, scrambling a little way out so that he could see into the kitchen. The sight turned his stomach, and he knew he could never come back from this. How would Ianto even begin to forgive him for this? Jack couldn’t believe he had finally found someone who didn’t hate him – and even loved him – and now he had lost him.

Ianto was stood in the centre of the table, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed with the giant facing him. The giant drummed his fingers on the table as Ianto spoke, and as every word left his mouth, the bile rose in Jack’s throat.

“Not only am I ugly and unintelligent, I am entirely worthless.”

Ianto spoke without emotion, with barely a tremor in his voice. It sounded as if he were reciting something from memory instead of speaking from his heart. Either Ianto did not believe the words, or he did and the words had long lost the power to hurt him.

Ianto trembled, rocking back and forth slightly as he continued. “I am entirely worthless,” he murmured. “I am not fit to scrub the floor my Master walks on. He does me a kindness in allowing me that much.” His voice broke, a sob bursting from her lips. “I am a pathetic waste of space and there is no one in this universe who could possibly love me.”

The litany of insults came to an end and Ianto stood motionless, silent as the master raised his hands in a quiet round of applause. Jack swallowed, closing his eyes against the burn of tears. He hated to hear Ianto say those things of himself, and hated more that the master had forced him to say them.

“Very good,” the giant said, placing his hands on the table. “Word perfect, Ianto, and only a few stumbles – you are improving.”

He smiled, and Jack’s stomach twisted. He knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

“Now we’ve been reminded about your sins, you must be punished.” He turned his finger in a spiral. “Remove your belt, take down your trousers and bend over.”

Jack blanched, bowing his head away from the window. His parents had never punished him or his brother with a beating, no matter what they had done, but he had heard how painful they were from his friends – and the giant was no ordinary man. There would be tremendous strength behind the blows. But surely the humiliation of being punished like a child would be just as painful. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jack bit his lip as he heard the first thwack of leather on flesh and the resulting cry of pain.

Four more followed in quick succession and then for a moment there was silence, broken only by Ianto’s ragged sobs. Jack opened his eyes in time to see the giant drop Ianto’s belt before him and rise to his feet.

“Pick yourself up,” the giant sneered. “I would like to get some sleep tonight.”

Ianto glanced up, squaring his shoulders as he climbed to his feet. He pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt silently, unflinching. He gave no sign that he was afraid or injured but Jack knew those emotions were trapped inside, unlikely to surface until the giant was out of sight.

On hearing the giant’s words, Jack had readied himself to climb across into the kitchen the moment he left. He stumbled back now, as the giant’s hand lashed out and caught Ianto around the middle. The Welshman was snatched up and enclosed in the giant’s fist without even a cry of protest before being carried from the room.

Jack hissed, leaping across the gap and landing on the windowsill. If he were going to escape with Ianto tonight then he would need to keep a close eye on him. Jack had only seen the inside of the kitchen, there was no knowing where Ianto would be kept overnight. He couldn’t let the giant out of his sight. He slid down the rope and darted across the kitchen into the shadows beside the door. The kitchen opened onto a long corridor, the far end widening out into what appeared to be a vast hallway. Jack could just make out the first few carpeted steps of a staircase, and the footsteps that echoed down the corridor sounded very much as if someone were climbing them. Jack slipped out of the kitchen and into the corridor. The strange, bright lighting of the corridor forced Jack to blink, raising a hand to shield his eyes and he had to resist the urge to slink back into the kitchen.

He hurried along the corridor, wishing for suits of armour or large potted plants he could hide behind. The corridor was horribly bare and Jack knew he would be visible to anyone watching. There was no one, he reminded himself; no one but the giant and Ianto, and they had already gone upstairs.

The giant had already reached the top of the stairs when Jack came to a halt at the end of a corridor. Jack let out a sigh of relief as he watched the giant turn left. Had he been any later he would have missed that and possibly wasted hours searching in the opposite direction.

Jack waited for a full two minutes, counting silently in his head, to be sure the giant was clear. He knew he would have lost the giant by the time he reached the top of the stairs but he preferred searching every room to being seen.

There was no more sign of the giant and Jack decided it was time to venture out into the hall. It seemed even more immense when stood at the centre of the circular room. The large entrance doors were off to one side, the carving in the stone surrounds seeming to depict it as the portal to some terrible place. Jack raised his eyebrows, wondering if the decoration was the same outside, for surely there could be no place more terrible than this. The staircase fanned out before him, hugely imposing with similar carving on the railings. It climbed up to a balcony that led in both directions, the upper walls panelled in the same wood as the corridor.

The steps were too high for Jack to walk up, but climbing them would be no great difficulty. As in the kitchen, a long rope hung down the side of the staircase. Jack grabbed hold and pulled himself up onto the first step.

There were thirty three steps in all, and by the time Jack reached the landing he was exhausted from the climb. He lay in the plush carpet that ran the length of the landing and let his arms flop at his side. The corridor was the same on both sides but it was to the left that Jack looked: the direction the giant had turned. Somewhere down there, in one of the many rooms, behind the closed doors, was Ianto and Jack knew he had to find him before the sun rose.

But there lay another problem. Most of the doors were closed, possibly locked. How was Jack even going to open them? He wasn't tall enough to reach the lock. Also, this corridor was just as bare as the one downstairs. If the giant were to emerge he would have no place to hide.

Jack lurched to his feet before he could abandon this as a bad idea. One of the doors closest to him was open – perhaps that was because there was someone inside the room. It was as good a place to start as any other and Jack jogged towards it.

The room within was dark, moonlight filtering in through the gap in the curtains. Jack peered around the door, blinking to give his eyes chance to adjust to the strange half light. The dominant feature in the room was the large four poster bed, shrouded in blankets, and the giant's form visible beneath them. Jack drew back, hiding behind the door as the giant lifted his head.

"Ianto," he called and Jack edged forward, desperate to catch a glimpse of his friend. The wall across from the bed was given to a great fireplace. A chair and a coffee table were placed before it. On the coffee table was a large domed birdcage. The bars glittered in the moonlight, casting pale shadows on the face of the man within.

Ianto sat hunched within the cage, the bars surrounding him on all sides. Jack was certain that he would be able to stand, but sitting down it was a tight squeeze. He glanced up as the giant called his name.

"You lost my harp, and I have nothing to play me to sleep. You're going to fix that. Sing one of your lovely Welsh songs for me. I believe there is one called Yr Eneth Ga'dd Ei Gwrthodis there not?"

It was not a title that Jack recognised, but then that was hardly surprising. He loved the sound of the Welsh accent, the way the vowels rolled off the tongue and the melodic lilt that crept into every word. But despite having lived in Wales for eight years he had only picked up a few words of their language. It was difficult to learn, and the incentive simply hadn’t been there – most of the people spoke English anyway.

Then Ianto began to sing and Jack recognised the tune immediately. The Rejected Maiden was a popular song with musicians, a sad tale of a woman abandoned by all she knew. The giant had picked it on purpose. No doubt he was certain that Jack had been frightened away, rejecting Ianto once and for all. Now he was trying to convince Ianto of that fact.

Jack knew that the Welsh were famed for their beautiful voices but nothing could have prepared him for Ianto’s. Perhaps it was not as good as some of the most famous singers, but it was still wondrous. His words flowed over the melody, hitting each note perfectly and pouring his emotion into the song. Although Jack could not understand the lyrics, he could understand the emotion behind them. Jack felt his heart twist and could not help but wonder how anyone could not be moved by it.

By the time Ianto’s last note died away, the giant’s breathing had evened out. No comment was forthcoming, even when Ianto quietly called out to him. Jack inched forward, unwilling to expose himself in case the giant was only pretending to sleep – at this point, Jack wouldn’t put anything past him – but when quiet sobs rose up from the direction of Ianto’s prison, Jack knew the giant had to be asleep. There was no way that Ianto would let his master see him cry.

He darted out into the bedroom, creeping undetected across the carpeted bedroom floor. Ianto didn’t look up, not even when Jack clambered onto the coffee table. If he had even heard, Jack suspected that he believed the noise to be his imagination. He looked a dejected sight, and close up, he looked even worse than Jack had imagined. His clothing was rags and tatters, the back shredded by what looked like a whip, but his back was unscarred. It looked as if Ianto was eating less regularly than before; Jack could see every one of his ribs as he bent over, burying his head in his knees.

Jack curled his hand around the bars of Ianto’s cage. “Ianto,” he called out, taking care to keep his voice below a whisper. “Ianto, it’s me, Jack.”

Ianto’s head jerked upwards, his eyes widening as they came to rest on Jack. Almost immediately he looked back towards the bottom of the cage. Whatever reaction Jack had expected this was not it.

“Ianto,” he spoke again, reaching through the bars to touch the Welshman’s shoulder. He stopped short, drawing his hand back. “What is it?

“You shouldn’t be here, Jack.” Ianto muttered bitterly. “There isn’t any more treasure, he’s moved it all – and I don’t know where.” He finally glanced up at Jack, raising a hand to dash away the tears in his eyes. “There’s no reason for you to be here.”

Jack crouched down, reaching out through the bars to take hold of Ianto’s chin. He turned his face towards him, but Ianto’s eyes slid back to the ground. “Look at me,” he demanded, “Ianto, look at me.”

Ianto’s eyes slid up, and Jack was pleased to see the spark of hope in them hadn’t completely died. He clearly wanted to believe that Jack had returned for him but the delay had hurt him. He ran his fingers over Ianto’s cheeks, smiling a little when Ianto leant into the touch. Perhaps all was not lost.

“You’re my reason for being here,” he murmured, letting his fingers run along Ianto’s jawline. “I promised I would come back, didn’t I?”

Ianto only nodded in response, and Jack continued. “I know I’m late. I said I would be here two days ago, and I am so sorry that I wasn’t. I was injured, I’ve been unconscious for the past three days.”

“Convenient,” Ianto muttered, under his breath. “There’s not a mark on you.” He leant back, pulling his face from Jack’s grasp.

“I know,” Jack admitted. He could see how Ianto would have interpreted his lack of injuries. His trust in Jack had been severely damaged and Jack knew he would doubt his every word. “I broke my shoulder.” Jack explained. “I wouldn’t have been able to return for weeks. But I contacted a woman who knows something of magic and she was able to heal it.” Jack curled his fist around the bars of the cage, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. “Please believe me, Ianto, I always meant to come back.”

Ianto’s hand curled around Jack’s, plucking his fingers the bars and raising them to his lips. “I do,” Ianto murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Jack’s hand. “Besides, you are here now. That’s all that matters.”

Jack looked up and met Ianto’s gaze, turning his hand to clasp Ianto’s. He rose to his feet, pulling Ianto with him and stepped closer to the bars. Ianto mirrored the movement and Jack reached out cupping his face and drawing him into a brief but fierce kiss.

Jack pulled back first, resting his forehead against Ianto’s. “So, am I forgiven for my delay? Will you still leave with me?”

He asked the question with a hint of humour, hoping that Ianto wouldn’t hear just how desperate he was. If he was going to be rejected now he would rather not have Ianto know how much it would hurt him.

“I would, but...” Ianto murmured, and gestured to the bars around him. “I’m afraid I’m a little trapped.”

Jack scowled, releasing Ianto and taking a step backwards. He studied the bars of the cage, even crouching down to peer at the lock. Then he stood and pulled out his sword, he jammed it into the lock and began to prod at the mechanism. The metal made a loud grinding noise that echoed in the small room. Jack leapt back, pulling the sword free. In the bed, the giant turned over and grunted before settling down once more, breathing gradually evening out.

“What are you doing?” Ianto hissed. “You’re going to get yourself killed! The only way you’re going to get that lock open is by using the key – and he keeps that on the bedside cabinet at all times. You’d be better off leaving me here until tomorrow. There’s bound to be a chance then.”

Jack’s gaze snapped around to the bedside cabinet. If he squinted he could see make out a small, silver key lying on top. It would be easy to climb up the front of the cabinet and reach the key – almost too easy. But then, the giant wasn’t counting on his return, and he probably didn’t suspect that Jack would be fool enough to approach him while he slept. He glanced over to Ianto and sheathed his father’s sword once again.

Yes, people did do stupid things when they were in love.

Ianto must have guessed his intentions. His eyes grew impossibly wide, and he reached out to Jack, fingers scraping over the sleeve of his coat. “Jack, no!” he hissed. “You can’t go over there.”

He reached for Jack once more. Jack took a step away from Ianto’s hands and backtracked across the coffee table. Ianto was staring after him, one hand still hopelessly extended, silently mouthing his name. Jack ignored him. He was aware that what he was doing was dangerous and would certainly get him killed if he misjudged anything. It was also the only way of getting Ianto out of here tonight – and Jack wasn’t willing to let him spend another minute under the giant’s control.

He climbed down from the coffee table and landed on the carpet without a sound. He turned and faltered. The most direct path to the bedside table would lead him directly across the strip of moonlight on the carpet, but avoiding it would take so much longer.

It was time he didn’t have.

Taking a deep breath, Jack ran across the open space, practically diving beneath the bed. He waited for his breathing to calm, listening for sounds above his head that would indicate the giant had woken. Nothing happened and Jack rose to his hands and knees and began to crawl along the length of the bed. He only emerged when he came to the bedside table, rolling out onto his back and drawing himself onto his feet. A low grumble from the giant almost had him rolling back underneath the solid wood frame, but the giant only shifted in his sleep and carried on sleeping.

Jack climbed onto the handle of the bedside table’s bottom drawer before reaching for the next. He had been right, it was an easy climb and he made it to the top in no time. The key lay in the centre of the table, smaller than he had expected and silver – just an ordinary key, even if abnormally large. He raised it over his head, waving it in Ianto’s direction.

The Welshman shook his head, waving a hand to beckon him over. His message was clear: hurry up.

Jack smiled in return and slipped the key behind him, sliding it underneath his belt so that it pressed up against his back. For a moment his eyes strayed to the giant and his hand twitched towards his sword. It would be so easy to climb across and slit his throat and then Ianto would never have to worry about him again.

He took a step forward, and Ianto’s waving became more frantic. Jack could see him out of the corner of his eye, and that stopped him. If it were to go wrong, Ianto’s punishment would only worsen. He turned on his heel and hurried across the bedside table, lowering himself down and climbing down the handles once more. This time he did not balk at running directly across the floor. He pulled himself up onto the coffee table with ease and strode towards Ianto.

“We’ll have you out in no time,” he announced in a whisper as he came within hearing range.

“I thought I’d said something wrong,” Ianto murmured as Jack approached the cage. Jack paused, tilting his head to one side, confused at the sudden change of subject, and nodded for him to continue while he reached behind him to pull the key out from his belt.

Ianto glanced away, the smile slipping from his face. “When I told you I loved you. You didn’t respond and when you didn’t come back I assumed that was because you didn’t feel the same about me – that you didn’t want love and commitment from me. You don’t have...”

“Shut up, Ianto.” Jack finally freed the key and placed it in the lock. He offered Ianto a smile through the bars. “Coming here, I’ve done things I never thought I’d do, nearly died a couple of times too – but you’ve made everything in my stinking life worthwhile. Of course I love you.”

The key turned in the lock, and the door opened with a soft click. Ianto took one glance at the sleeping giant before scrambling out of the cage. He threw himself at Jack, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him desperately. Jack wound his arms around Ianto and held him close, running his hands across his back for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, as soon as Ianto broke the kiss. He didn’t want to delay any longer than they had to but nor could he leave without ensuring Ianto was not seriously injured. “I saw what happened before...”

Ianto shook his head. “Then you know I’m fine,” he insisted. “No broken bones, just a slight loss of dignity.” He entwined his fingers with Jack’s and gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “My dignity has suffered quite enough knocks; it can deal with this one too.”

Jack grimaced, returning the squeeze. He took a step back, towards the edge of the table. “No more,” he vowed. “You’re coming home with me and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again. Now, come on. Let’s go before he wakes.”

He released Ianto’s hand to allow him to climb from the table first, but as soon as his own feet touched the ground he reached out once more. Ianto’s fingers curled around his and the Welshman gave him a tight smile. “I’m not letting you go,” Jack murmured. “No matter what, this time we’re sticking together.”

Ianto blushed, giving Jack’s hand a quick squeeze. “Come on,” he chided gently, keeping a rapid pace as he led the way towards the bedroom door. “You’re not going to be stupid about this. If he comes after us, you’ll go – not do anything stupid in an effort to help me. I’m fine. I always am.”

Jack tugged Ianto around the doorway, glancing towards him for a moment. “I seem to be making a habit of doing stupid things for love.”

Ianto slapped at his shoulder. “You’ve been listening to Owen. How is he anyway? I bet you’ve got sick of him moaning, already.”

“No, actually,” Jack replied. “The woman I told you about – Toshiko – she’s something of an expert when it comes to magical items. She thought, and Owen agreed with her, that she stood a better chance of ridding him of the curse. He’s probably wearing on her right now.”

Ianto was silent for a moment and Jack began to wonder if he had done something wrong in letting Toshiko take Owen. But then Ianto shrugged,

"Good for him. I've always said he should stop moping about and do something about his curse. Maybe this Toshiko will be what he needs. Although, I don't know where she would start – even Owen doesn't have a clue how to break it."

"I've sworn that we'll go to see him when we get back." Jack added. "Maybe they'll have broken the curse by then."

Ianto hummed in agreement, releasing Jack's hand to begin the climb downstairs. "He'll have to wait a day or two," he said as he disappeared over the edge. "Because you promised me a celebration, and I fully intend on celebrating until I can't walk."

He raised his head and shot Jack a smile that was equal parts shy and wicked. The combination wouldn't have worked on anyone but Ianto and Jack felt his blood run south as he imagined all the things he would do to Ianto when they were in the safety of his bedroom.

Not now. He hastily curtailed his thoughts. They were hardly safe yet; there was still a giant to escape. He hurried down the stairs after Ianto. It would not do to have the giant wake and discover Ianto missing. There would be nowhere to run or hide.

It was Ianto who reached for his hand when they reached the bottom. Jack had barely time to get used to having his feet on solid ground when Ianto yanked him across the room and down the corridor. The fear was ever present, gnawing at Jack's stomach but by the time they had reached the kitchen it was slowly ebbing. It felt as if they could actually do this – escape together and never look back. He felt a wave of joy overcome him and he swept Ianto up into a fierce hug.

Ianto barely held in a yelp if surprise, but when he had got over the initial shock he responded to the hug. “Behave,” he whispered, patting Jack on the ass then giving it a sharp squeeze. “We’re not out of here yet.”

Jack didn’t need the reminder, nor did he especially want it. Ianto was right though, it wouldn’t be a good idea to become overexcited. He needed to be alert for anything that would indicate the giant had awoken, but more importantly, Jack knew he didn’t want to face crushing disappointment if this didn’t work. He didn’t want to think that it wouldn’t but it still remained a distinct possibility.

He followed Ianto up the rope to stand on the top of the cupboards. The Welshman was glancing around himself for the last time. Jack placed his chin on Ianto’s shoulder and slid his arms around his waist. “Not going to miss it are you?”

Ianto shook his head, pressing back against Jack. “Not in the slightest, I hate this place.”

He twisted in Jack’s arms to press a brief kiss to his lips before heading towards the window. Scrambling up after him, Jack decided that he liked this confident streak of Ianto’s. He would enjoy drawing it out when they were home. Jack had known instantly that Ianto was incredibly courageous and confident, even if his situation had done its best to disguise that. He couldn’t wait to find out how he would flourish when free to do as he chose.

Jack’s only fear was that Ianto would choose a life without Jack, that he would find someone else, or choose to settle far away. There was no length that Jack wouldn’t go to for Ianto, and he believed the feeling was mutual, but what happened after? What happened when Ianto was free to choose his own path and the blinkers that cast Jack as a dashing hero were gone? Jack glanced at Ianto as he landed in the tree. Surely he saw him as more than a means to an end – surely he wouldn’t abandon him when that end had been achieved. Jack didn’t know how Ianto would feel in a day, a month, a year, and the thought that their love might not last terrified him. He didn’t know how he would ever get used to being alone again.

They scrambled down the tree quickly and were soon knee deep in long grass. Jack held out his arm to Ianto once again, his fears comforted when Ianto took it without hesitation. “Go on,” the Welshman urged. “Show me where this beanstalk is.”

Jack led the way through the overgrown garden, not breaking the fast walk they moved at. He could feel Ianto’s tension through the hand clenched around his, and when he glanced towards the Welshman he often caught him glancing back towards the castle. The slower pace clearly bothered Ianto but Jack didn’t increase it. There was aood reason to hurry, but with the giant asleep and not immediately pursuing him there was no need to run. Better to conserve energy in case running became necessary.

The slipped through the bars of the gate, and darted into the grass verge beside the path. Now their goal was closer, Jack did pick up speed. They had barely moved away from the road when Ianto stumbled. Jack glanced back, eyes straying to the windows of the castle. A light was shining from one of them.

“IANTO!”

The roar brought all Jack’s fear crashing down. He broke into a run, Ianto matching his every step with one of his own. It would be fine, he tried to reassure himself. The giant would have to dress before he could come searching for them – or at the very least put some shoes on – they would be able to make it to the beanstalk with ease.

Familiar landmarks flashed by, the beanstalk growing nearer and nearer. Just as Jack thought he could run no more, the rose bush loomed up before them. Jack pulled Ianto around it. Still the giant’s voice carried from the castle, restricted by stone walls.

“Go,” Jack snapped when Ianto hesitated. He grabbed the Welshman’s face and pulled him in for a brief, fierce kiss. “Ianto, go. Now!”

It was all the encouragement Ianto needed to lower himself through the hole and begin the downward climb. Jack waited for him to gain some distance before clambering through the hole himself. He scrambled down the beanstalk after Ianto, feeling a wave of gratitude for the larger world. Climbing onto the tables and cupboards had given Ianto great upper body strength and enough practice to be able to tackle anything. He had worried about having to help Ianto on the journey to the ground, but that was completely unfounded – and rather stupid, Jack reflected.

The beanstalk shook violently, Jack wrapped his arms around it as it was nearly ripped from his grasp. A curse from below told him Ianto too had nearly fallen. He glanced up, his eyes widening as he saw the giant clinging to the top of the beanstalk. They had covered some distance in the time it had taken for him to find them, but his size still meant that he would be on them sooner than expected unless they moved – and fast.

“Climb, Ianto!” he called. “Don’t stop, just keep going!”

The giant may have had size, but that proved to be an impediment when climbing. Jack quickly realised that he and Ianto were able to climb much quicker – their smaller frames and years of practice helping them. They couldn’t rest, though, or even afford to slow their pace. The gap between them and the giant was not shrinking, even if it was not growing either.

The cottage was getting closer and closer, and as they neared Jack could make out his mother in the garden. Her face was turned upwards, watching their descent. A part of Jack wanted to scream at her, tell her to run and save herself but he held back that urge, instead shouting the second thing that came to his mind:

“Mother, get an axe – quickly.”

She disappeared into the house and Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t known whether or not she would have heard over the distance. When she returned she brought with her the long handled axe Jack used for chopping wood. Jack glanced up towards the giant but the gap between them remained the same.

Ianto was first to reach the ground. Jack glanced down, watching as he took the axe from his mother and held it ready, waiting for Jack to join him. That wouldn’t do at all. The fall wouldn’t be so great. Jack knew he would survive it unscathed.

He caught Ianto’s eye and gave him a quick nod. “Do it,” he called. “Chop it down now!”

The first swing of the axe made the beanstalk shudder, the second one making it sway more violently. Jack clambered over the next leaf and then let go, dropping the last few feet and rolling away from the beanstalk. His mother hurried over to help him up, but Jack quickly brushed her off and pushed her behind him.

Ianto was swinging the axe repeatedly at the beanstalk, a great groove already cut into it. Determination etched the Welshman’s face, and tears were running down his cheeks as he swung the axe again and again, trying to sever the link to his prison. Jack wanted to let him do it alone, knowing how important it would be to Ianto that he played some part in his own rescue but he knew he couldn’t. It would take far too long for one blade to slice through the beanstalk.

He unsheathed his sword and strode towards Ianto. The weapon cut through the air and sliced through the beanstalk, pulling back in time for Ianto’s next stroke. They worked in tandem, each blade hitting the stalk in quick succession until finally, the gash became too great. The beanstalk fell, taking the giant with it.

The giant landed beneath the beanstalk, his head crashing against the ground with a bang. He lay still, his face turned away from them. Jack clenched his sword tighter and waited, but the giant did not get up.

“Is he dead?” Ianto broke the silence, the axe still raised for another blow. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself so tense and keeping back the emotions he had no doubt blocked up inside.

“I don’t know,” Jack answered. He sheathed his sword, then stepped closer to Ianto. Raising a hand, he pushed the axe down, uncurling Ianto’s fingers from around the handle. Finding out if the giant was dead or alive should have been his priority but right now he cared more about Ianto’s wellbeing.

He placed the axe on the ground beside him and drew Ianto into his arms. Planting a kiss onto his forehead he smiled and brushed away the tears that still stained his face. Tears of anger, he realised, and of frustration – but most of all of happiness. He was home and he was safe, and Jack could hardly blame him for being a little overwhelmed.

He pulled back, slipping one arm around Ianto’s shoulders and steering him towards his mother. “Ianto,” he began, “This is my mother. Mother, this is Ianto.”

Ianto’s hand tightened momentarily on Jack’s waist, but he unwound his arm and held it out to Jack’s mother. “I’m pleased to meet you, Ma’am.”

Jack’s mother ignored the hand and reached out to pull Ianto into a tight hug. For a moment Ianto merely stood there, but it quickly passed and he wrapped his arms around her in return.

“Seems to me you haven’t had so much of that,” she murmured. “But you’ll get plenty here if I know my Jack. And anyone who makes him happy is welcome here.” She pulled back taking hold of his arm and beginning to steer him inside. “Now, before we do anything else I’m going to find you something to change into. Then I’ll get some porridge on the stove for you both.”

Jack could hear her chattering as she led Ianto inside. He smiled, amused by her attempts to mother him. It was hardly a bad thing, Ianto had spent so long looking after himself and others that he had probably forgotten what it was like to have someone take care of him. He would soon be reminded if Jack’s mother had her way.

He returned for the axe, scooping it up in one hand and placing it over his shoulder. Then, he approached the giant. As he drew nearer he felt his heart sink. The giant wasn’t dead, only unconscious. Jack hefted the axe in the air and let it swing down towards the ground. There was only one thing for it.

A strange yet familiar grinding noise filled the air and Jack was buffeted by a strange wind that rose up from nowhere. He started and turned around full circle. Just beside the stump of the beanstalk was a little blue box. The door opened and the strange man stepped out. The Doctor, Jack remembered as he let his gaze flicker over the same pin-striped suit and red shoes. Jack’s spirits rose as he saw Janet beside him. The cow looked much healthier than when he had last seen her. Yet he couldn’t understand what the Doctor was doing here.

“Hello again,” the man waved cheerily at Jack. He strode towards him, leading Janet behind him. “I’ve come to return your cow. I’m afraid to say that Donna doesn’t think a cow is a suitable replacement for a bottle of milk. Can’t say I understand why not.”

He handed the lead rope over to Jack and gave the cow a friendly pat. Jack stared at him, open-mouthed as he accepted the rope, dropping his hand onto Janet’s head and scratching her behind the ears.

“Jack, what’s going on?”

Jack turned to see Ianto stood in the doorway of the cottage. He had changed, and although the clothes were a little large on him they looked much better than the rags he had worn previously. He released Janet’s rope, knowing that she wouldn’t wander far, and beckoned the Welshman over. Ianto hurried to join them, sliding an arm around Jack’s waist when he reached his side. Jack returned the gesture, tugging Ianto closer.

“Ianto this is the Doctor. He’s the man who sold me the magic beans.” He turned to the Doctor. “I can’t give them back, I’m afraid.”

The Doctor grinned. “I can see that. Did they work?”

Jack glanced back to Ianto, catching his eye and smiling. “They did. They brought everything you said they would: adventure, riches – and love.”

He leant in and pressed a kiss to Ianto’s lips, breath ghosting over flesh when he leant back.

“Time and a place, boys!” the Doctor called, looming up beside them. Jack stepped back from Ianto immediately. He wasn’t at all shy about showing his love but nor did he appreciate being watched quite so closely. He slid his arm back around Ianto’s waist and leant against him, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you going to do about him?” the Doctor gestured towards the giant. “He’s not dead, you know.”

He strode towards the giant and began to walk around him. Ianto stiffened, and Jack’s arm tightened around him.

“Hey,” he called. “I wouldn’t get so close...”

“Nonsense!” the Doctor called back, circling round so that he could see the giant’s face. He stopped dead, his eyes going wide. He muttered, “I should have known you’d be responsible.”

He crouched down beside the giant, touching his face gently.

Jack staggered backwards, pulling Ianto behind him. It wasn’t fair – the Doctor could not be friends with the giant. Would he now turn on them, demand retribution for what they had done? Would he insist that Ianto was returned? Jack would fight him to the death if it came to it, rather than allow Ianto to return to a life of slavery.

The Doctor glanced up, frowning as he took in Jack’s defensive posture, the hand on his sword. “There’s no need for that,” he chided. “There is going to be no violence towards anyone.” He gestured to the giant. “Including him. We go way back – old friends – well, not friends exactly. I don’t think we’ve ever been friends – arch-nemeses, really. I’m going to take him off your hands now. The TARDIS is the only place that can hold him. He won’t trouble you again in there. I promise.”

“That’s not good enough,” Jack muttered under his breath. “After all he’s done to Ianto, don’t you think he should have the final say in how he’s punished?”

He was furious that the Doctor was allowing the giant to live. He doubted there was any prison large enough for him, or strong enough to hold him.

Ianto’s hand clenched around his wrist, sliding down over his hand and prising it away from the sword hilt. “I’ve seen enough violence,” he said. “I don’t want to see more. If the Doctor says that this TARDIS is the only place that can hold him, I’m willing to let him deal with him.” He frowned. “But I don’t understand how you’ll get him there. Your box isn’t that large.”

The Doctor grinned. “Oh, my TARDIS is bigger on the inside. Much bigger. But that’s beside the point – because he isn’t really a giant.”

Jack snorted. “He looks like one to me.”

“I’ve not seen one of these in a long time,” the Doctor said, holding up a silver chain that hung around the giant’s neck. At the end lay a large gem the size of Jack’s fist. “It alters your dimensions – very useful, but also very dangerous in the wrong hands.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, thin wand. The tip lit up, a high pitched noise emanating from the device as the Doctor pointed it at the chain.

The chain parted, the two ends falling from the Doctor’s hand to land on the earth. The giant shuddered as he began to shrink. Giant hands and feet decreased in size until they were no larger than Jack’s own. He became thinner and shorter, and when he finally lay still once more he looked to be no taller than Jack or Ianto. In sleep, he looked far less dangerous – but Jack was aware that his mind had been the most intimidating thing about him, and that would be unchanged.

“He always did think bigger was better,” the Doctor murmured, easing the giant up and over one shoulder. “He’ll learn one day that quality is far more important than quantity.”

He strode towards the box, turning in the doorway to raise a hand in goodbye, before disappearing. For a moment there was only silence and then the strange sound began once more, and Jack staggered back as the wind swirled around them. The blue box faded out of view, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

When the sound had faded, Jack turned to Ianto. He glanced down, running his gaze over Ianto’s body – everywhere but his eyes. “What are you going to do now?” he asked. “You can take half the money if you like, open a tailor’s shop. You’d have all the others out of business before a month was out.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. He closed the gap between them, sliding his hands down Jack’s arms and around his waist. Leaning in, his lips brushed against Jack’s. “What I want,” he murmured, words caressing Jack’s cheek, “All I want is for you and I to live happily ever after.”


End file.
